Shooting Straight
by lellathellama
Summary: The Hunger Games AU. Sometimes, you'd do anything for the person you love. Sometimes, you don't even have to think before you make the decision. You just do. It's the 63rd Hunger Games, and Blaine Anderson makes the decision that changes everything.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: quick before we begin, hello! Welcome to the journey! In case you were wondering, I'm not listing this as a crossover because it's simply set in The Hunger Games' setting, and doesn't involve any of the characters. Warnings for violence, gore, etc etc everything you would've encountered in THG. I don't own any of the characters or THG, either. **

* * *

><p>"<em>Kurt Hummel."<em>

Kurt feels his stomach drop to his toes. Oxygen seems to refuse to enter his lungs at the sound of his name. Everything sounds hollow, and there's a quiet ringing in his ears. It seems like the whole world has stopped around him. How could his name have been picked? Of the thousands of slips of paper in the pristine glass bowl, how was it that one of his 14 solemn slips of paper was chosen?

And yet, here he stands, Peacekeepers surrounding him as they wait for him to begin his walk to the stage.

His brain isn't functioning properly; his feet aren't getting the command to _move, walk, people are watching. _Finally, his feet start to shuffle, across the gravel and towards the stage. He barely gets three feet, however, before he hears it:

"_I VOLUNTEER!"_

Kurt freezes on the spot, eyes widening because he recognizes that voice. He knows that voice better than he knows his own; he's heard it singing, laughing, talking. He whips his head around to confirm his sinking suspicion, and his heart stops beating.

_No. _

Blaine Anderson is struggling viciously against the Peacekeepers' grasp on his arms and torso, heavy tears streaming down his face and his mouth stretched wide open. Once the Peacekeepers hear his proclamation they release their hold, and Blaine sags forward, catching himself before he hits the ground. He straightens up, clears his throat, and repeats:

"_I volunteer as tribute!" _

Before Kurt knows what he is doing he's running, shoving people aside in his panic. "Blaine!" he shouts as loud as he can. "No, Blaine, _No!" _He makes it to where Blaine is standing, surrounded by Peacekeepers, but it's too late. Blaine already volunteered, and once you do, it can't be undone. It's final.

Blaine is going to the Hunger Games.

Three Peacekeepers begin ushering Blaine towards the stage instead, but that doesn't stop Kurt from trying to reach him. "Please, _please!" _He cries at them, fighting as hard as he can to get through to Blaine. Another comes up behind him and wraps an arm around his waist, restraining him as Blaine makes his way to the stage. Kurt continues to fight, although he's not even sure why anymore. There's nothing he can do. But he still keeps fighting.

Blaine is on stage now, and his face is serious, any trace of his previous tears gone.

"And what is _your _name, son?" The over-excited escort onstage asks, placing a hand gently on Blaine's shoulder.

"Blaine Anderson," Blaine answers solemnly. Kurt has given up the fight against the Peacekeeper and has slumped over his arm, the air burning his lungs with each heaving breath he takes and tears falling down his cheeks, but he makes no effort to stop them. Up on stage, the lady is smiling hugely, and congratulating Blaine for his noble act. Blaine just nods, and lifts his gaze from his scuffed shoes. He meets Kurt's eyes immediately, and the look in Blaine's eyes is so determined that another sob rips out of Kurt's throat. Blaine is still looking at Kurt, though, so Kurt composes himself enough to look back, blinking the tears away from his vision just in time to see Blaine mouth '_I love you'._ Kurt lets out one more shaky breath, and mouths it back. That action alone seems to make Blaine crack and he drops his head as a single tear rolls down his cheek.

Kurt watches as Blaine is ushered offstage, walking dejectedly through the dark wooden doors into the Justice Building of District 8. Kurt can't believe this is happening. That Blaine would volunteer for him, so that Kurt wouldn't have to go to the Games himself. Suddenly, he himself is being lifted, hoisted over the Peacekeeper's shoulder, who is walking in the same direction of the door that Blaine walked through just seconds before. Kurt closes his eyes, trying to keep himself calm, although the attempt is futile. Blaine just volunteered for the Hunger Games. For him. _Blaine is going to the Games_. Finally, the Peacekeeper sets him on his feet a few feet from the door, and grabs his arm.

"You get three minutes. Then you're done. Got it?" The Peacekeeper grumbles sternly. "The kid's family is gonna go first, and then you. Three minutes, and then he's boarding the train." Kurt nods, face paling as the words the Peacekeeper says set in. Three minutes. That's all the time Kurt has left with Blaine- possibly forever. _No. _he won't allow himself to think like that. Blaine is smart. The ability to outsmart the other tributes can be the deciding factor in the games. Just 13 years ago that boy from District 12 had done it, outsmarting 47 other tributes in the second Quarter Quell. He can _do this. _After considering how short three minutes is, however, Kurt's breathing begins to pick up speed, and he feels lightheaded. Only three minutes. How does someone say _everything_ in three minutes? From the corner of his eye he sees Mr. and Mrs. Anderson walk in through the door, Mr. Anderson pale and supporting his wife, who is weeping silently into his shoulder. They step through the doorway, and after what seems like mere seconds they are walking back out, pausing in front of Kurt. Mr. Anderson glares at him, cold and accusing, and Kurt closes his eyes, ashamed. Then Blaine's parents are walking away, leaving Kurt to be the last one to say goodbye. The thought nearly overwhelms him, but it doesn't have time to settle as the Peacekeeper shoves him roughly through the door.

Kurt barely has time to take in the room- The tall, wooden bookshelves, housing what appeared to be thousands of books; the maroon carpeting, designed intricately with swirls and shapes and indecipherable patterns; the tall window in the background, bathing the room in the golden glow of the sun- before a solid, warm body is hitting his own with incredible force, arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing him tight enough that he can't breathe. He doesn't care, though. He throws his own arms around Blaine's shoulders, holding him as close as he can. He buries his face in the crook of Blaine's neck, and a sob rips out of his throat, only causing Blaine to squeeze tighter.

"Why would you do that?" he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks and landing on Blaine's shoulder with a soft _pit. _"Why wouldn't you let me go? I should have gone. _I should be going! It shouldn't be you!" _He doesn't know when his cries turn into shouts but they do, and he feels Blaine's fingers crawl up his back, one hand tangling in Kurt's hair and holding him close, the other digging into his shoulder blade, sure to leave bruises. "_Why_," Kurt sobs into Blaine's shoulder.

"I couldn't let you go," Blaine replies simply, calmly, as if he didn't just put his own life on the line to spare Kurt. "I couldn't do it."

Kurt decides that it's not time to argue, not when they have a precious few minutes left, so instead he pulls his head back and crushes his lips to Blaine's, trying to pour out all the love and emotion he feels through the kiss. Blaine responds immediately, his lips moving across Kurt's desperately, and Kurt feels tears on his cheeks, but they're not his own. They kiss passionately, both of them realizing the enormity of what is about to happen. It's too short before they need to separate for air, but Kurt is pressing kisses to Blaine's lips, over and over until he is gasping for air, on his nose and chin and cheeks and forehead and anywhere he can reach.

"Kurt," Blaine says, grasping Kurt's face tightly in his hands. "Kurt, if I don't come back-"

"_Don't say that!_" Kurt shouts, hysterical, pressing another kiss to Blaine's lips to quiet him. "_You are going to come home. _For me." Kurt is whispering quickly and desperately, aware that three minutes is quite nearly done. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, and continues. "Once, you told me you would do anything for me. This is what I want you to do. _Stay alive._ Do you understand?" Kurt is no longer crying, his face is set in determination. Blaine nods and rests his forehead against Kurt's.

"Yes," Blaine whispers, his warm breath hitting Kurt's face and causing Kurt's eyes to flutter shut. "I love you, Kurt. So much. I promise I'll come home." Blaine kisses Kurt softly, and just as Kurt is about to respond, the wooden doors fly open, and a Peacekeeper walks through the doorway quickly, white suit seeming even more intimidating in the sunlight.

"_I love you, too!" _Kurt cries as the Peacekeeper takes hold of his arm, pulling him back. "_Please_, Blaine, _stay alive._" He catches one last glance of Blaine's face, honey eyes bright and tear stains glistening in the light, before the heavy door is slammed shut in front of his nose. Kurt begins whimpering softly, and the Peacekeeper leads him by the arm to the front door of the building. Kurt allows himself to be pulled, and when the Peacekeeper releases him from his hold he sags slightly, shoulders still shaking. He forces himself to walk out the front door and only finds the energy to be slightly surprised when he sees his father and Carole waiting there for him, both visibly shaken up. Burt pulls Kurt into his chest immediately, and Kurt raises his arms weakly to wrap them around his father. He feels hollow. Blaine is going. He's probably boarding the train right this moment, off to go fight to the death against 23 other teenagers, leaving Kurt to be home. Kurt rests his head on his father's shoulder, too exhausted to do anything else but. He can't fight back anymore. All he can do is wait.

"It's gonna be okay, Kurt," Burt whispers gruffly into his ear, his voice uneven as though he's unconvinced by his own words.

"Why would he do that?" Kurt whimpers softly, his voice empty. It sounds foreign, even to his own ears. "It should have been me. Not him. Why would he volunteer for me, dad? _Why?" _he doesn't have the energy to cry anymore, but his his breaths are shallow, and he feels nauseous. Burt just tightens his grip around his son, for once, not having the answer


	2. Chapter 2

"_Why would you do that?" his father asks, slamming his fist down onto the aged wooden desk. _

"_I had to, dad! I couldn't let him go! I couldn't let him die!" Blaine shouts back, tears falling down his cheeks and onto his shirt. His mother is sitting in the lone chair in the room, weeping silently. _

"_For what? To get yourself killed instead?" His father is seething, anger pouring from the surface of his skin. _

"_Thanks, dad, I'm glad you have confidence in me! I'm glad you want me to come back alive," Blaine answers sarcastically. _

"_Blaine, that boy isn't worth your life! You shouldn't have done that! It was a stupid decision!" _

"_It was the best decision I've ever made! I _LOVE HIM, _dad! Why is that so hard to understand?"_

_Mr. Anderson lets his face fall into his hands, pacing around the small room and trying to get a grip on himself. _

The moment replays itself over and over in Blaine's head. He sits on the train, head leaning against the window, pretending to look out. But he's not seeing anything. All he sees is his dad, angry and storming around the room and asking him why he would volunteer for _that boy, _and Blaine's blood boils in his veins. The second he'd heard Kurt's name called, the decision was obvious. He didn't even have to think twice about it, about shouting those two words that changed his life the moment he said them. But to Blaine, as long as Kurt was okay, then he was okay. He lets his mind wander to the future, to the things he's going to be facing in a mere few days. The landscape outside the train whirs by his eyes and morphs into greyness, the unnamed arena that he's heading to. Flashes of trees, bricks, ice and water zoom through his eyes as he sees himself, crazed and bloodthirsty, brandishing a large knife. The image nearly consumes him, until he sees a splash of bright blue; the colour of Kurt's eyes. It shocks him back to the present, and he promises himself to _not let that happen to him. _No matter what it comes to, he refuses to be changed. For Kurt.

Blaine continues to stare out the window until he feels a presence at his side. He turns his head and finds himself face to face with the other District 8 Tribute, a girl named Santana.

"Sup, Pipsqueak," she asks with a nod of her head. She relaxes back against the seat she's sitting in, her long black hair hanging over the edge of the chair and a cheeky smirk in place on her face. She doesn't look the least bit concerned about- well, about _anything. _

"It- uh, it's _Blaine,_" Blaine corrects automatically.

"I know that, Pipsqueak, I was there for the whole _no don't take Kurt not Kurt pleeeaaaaase _dilemma," she mocks, grinning. Blaine winces slightly. "Why all the dramatics, anyways? You should've just let the kid go, we'll be dead in a week anyways." Blaine knows she's just trying to get a reaction out of him, knows that he should just stay calm, but he is just _so tired _of people questioning him, of questioning Kurt's worth, that it overwhelms him and he stands up before he's consciously aware of what he's doing, his chair flying back and falling over.

"_I wouldn't let him die!" _ he yells, slamming his fist down onto the table of desserts in front of him, smashing one dish to tiny shards and causing the rest of them to rattle ominously. One of Santana's eyebrows arched to her forehead, and she nodded appreciatively, letting out a low whistle.

"Fiesty, Pipsqueak. Seems like you've got more of a shot than I thought," she says, slightly impressed. Her words seem to syphon the energy out of Blaine and he takes a deep breath, gaining control of himself. He shuts his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. It's just- everyone keeps _asking _me that. I just love him, okay? I love him and I wouldn't be able to watch him _die. _I couldn't do it." Blaine rights his chair and sits in it, his outburst leaving as quickly as it came.

"And you think it's gonna be any easier for him?" she asks, sounding doubtful.

Blaine sighs, resting his his cheek in the palm of his hand. "He's strong. He has so much to live for. He'll be able to move on from me." A single tear escapes from his eye and he scrubs it away hastily. If Santana notices, she doesn't comment.

The door to the compartment slides open and Blaine lifts his head just as their mentor, the victor of the 49th Hunger Games, steps in. She's chewing on the leg of some sort of bird, tearing it from her mouth with a broad hand and tossing it to the table in front of Blaine and Santana. Blaine grimaces down as it as the woman swipes the back of her hand across her mouth and grunts, shoving her curly bangs away from her reddened face.

"Morning, kids, the name's Shannon, but you can just call me Bieste."

Ah, yes, Shannon Bieste. The name rings a bell in Blaine's mind- she was the one who killed off the last tribute with her bare hands, as she'd left her weapons back at her campsite when man-eating squirrels ran her out of her camp and straight into the remaining tribute. Brutal strength, but she was known for being a big sweetheart deep down.

"Hello," Blaine stays, standing to shake Bieste's hand. She grasps his hand firmly with both of hers before releasing it, chuckling lowly.

"Quite the show you put on at the reaping there, kid. S'gonna get you a lot of sponsors, the folks in the Capitol are huge on that whole love thing. Nicely played." Bieste nods her approval.

"It-it wasn't a show," Blaine says, tired of repeating himself.

"Even better then, now you won't have to fake it," she says, settling the matter with a smile and picking up the leg again to take a huge bite out of it.

"Well, I'm Santana and I think you should teach us what to do so we at least make it to the second day before we're slaughtered," Santana states, sounding bored and glancing at her nails.

"Well then, hun, the best place to start is by having a little bit of confidence in yourself. Going into the Games ready to die is the best way to get yourself killed." Santana at least has the courtesy to let Bieste finish before she rolls her eyes.

"Please, if we were gonna survive, we wouldn't be here. We don't have a shot, there's no point in getting our hopes up and waiting until the very end to be torn to bits slowly and painfully by bloodthirsty animals. Or mutts."

Blaine closes his eyes and shakes his head. "I'm not gonna die," he mumbles. "I'm going to stay _alive. _As long as I can."

"Hey!" Bieste cheers, bits of meat flying from her mouth in excitement. "That's the spirit! Now _that's _something I can work with!"

The three of them sit down, Blaine paying rapt attention to Bieste's every word and Santana casually waving her off, for the rest of the ride. They take a quick break to eat some more, their stomachs grumbling in satisfaction. If they weren't basically being sent to the slaughterhouse, Blaine would think it was actually... nice. Bieste really was a nice lady and Santana was funny, in her own way. He wished it didn't have to end as it did, with only two of them getting back on that train- maybe even one.

Blaine shudders and pushes the thought away. _He is going to survive. _

* * *

><p>It's hours later and Blaine is laying on his bed, curled up on his side. His knees are tucked into his chest, tear tracks staining his cheeks. If he were at home, Kurt would come up behind him, wrap himself around Blaine and pulling him close to his chest, his sweet scent reminding Blaine of lilacs and warm sunshine and Kurt and <em>home. <em>His arms, warm and solid, would hold Blaine to him like he was holding the pieces of Blaine together, saving him from falling apart. He would kiss the back of Blaine's neck, whispering "_I love you" _against the skin there.

But if Blaine were at home right now, Kurt would be here instead. And Blaine would never allow that.

So for now, away from the cameras, the mentors, the watching eyes of everyone in the country, Blaine lets himself feel. Lets himself cry. He promises himself that after he gets it out of his system once, that'll be it and he'll have to toughen up and start preparing himself for the Games. There's a soft knock at the door and he sits up, startled.

"Y-yes?" he asks, clearing his throat.

The door handle twists and Bieste walks in, shutting it softly behind her and coming to take a seat on the edge of Blaine's bed. "You're not as quiet as you think, you know," she informs him. Blaine groans and lets himself fall back on the bed, head hitting the pillows with a soft _thump. _

"Why are you in here?" he asks her, not lifting his head to look up. "I bet every tribute you've mentored has cried on the train. Why are you coming to visit me?"

"Because none of them ever volunteered before," she answers. She scoots back farther on his bed, leaning her back against the wall. "Who was the boy, anyways?"

"H-his name's Kurt. Kurt Hummel. We're- he's my boyfriend."

"I see," Bieste replies. "You really love him that much?"

Blaine nods quickly. "More than anything in the world."

Bieste lays a hand lightly on his knee. "Then I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get you back home to him."

* * *

><p>Bieste leaves shortly after that, Blaine falling asleep the second she leaves his room. He opens his eyes to sunlight streaming through the window, and to their escort- a put-together, dainty lady named Emma Pilsbury- swinging his door open.<p>

"Up up, time to go time to go! Exciting day ahead of us!" she squeaks, fingers rapping on the doorframe nervously. Blaine sits up and squints, following her with groggy eyes as she leaves his room. Just as she leaves, a freshly done-up Santana appears in the spot previously occupied by Emma.

"Where are we?" he asks, rubbing his eyes. Santana smirks darkly.

"Look out your window, Pipsqueak." Blaine obeys, looking out the window. He is met with the sight of thousands of people, a blur of colour and outlandish outfits, screaming wildly and banging on the side of the train. They are surrounded by buildings, even the smallest looking more significant than the Justice Building back in District 8. Blaine can't hold back a gasp, and he waves out the window shyly, flabbergasted. Santana chuckles.

"Welcome to the Capitol."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: sorry for the perspective shift, I hope it doesn't bother you too much. It was just necessary for the sake of the story. Don't forget to tell me what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

Blaine presses his face closer to the window, absorbing all that he could see. The tall, elaborate buildings, the bright blue sky, the uniqueness of each person. He allows himself to be mesmerized for just a minute more before pulling his face away. Santana is standing there, her arms crossed across her chest and a smirk on her face.

"Impressive, right?" Blaine doesn't respond; he simply nods.

"Yeah, I know. And I bet our rooms are gonna be even more impressive, so either get your ass up or I'm going to throw you over my shoulder and carry you in," she threatens. Blaine laughs softly.

"Alright, I'm coming."

* * *

><p>After getting off the train they are led directly through a large, concrete building. They reach a sign that says "Boys" with an arrow pointing to the left, and "Girls" pointing to the right. With one parting glance at each other they split, Blaine following the Peacekeeper sent to lead him, Santana going the opposite direction.<p>

After walking for a few minutes they reach a room with a single bed in it, and the Peacekeeper leaves. Blaine learns the hard way that this is where they give him his 'makeover'. He is sufficiently plucked, waxed, and scrubbed until his skin is sensitive and raw (luckily boys at least get to keep _some _hair, and don't have a full body wax), the stylists fawning over his 'brave declaration of love' the whole time. Blaine is pretty sure he heard each of them squeal at least twice. It makes him wonder what love is like in the Capitol. Wouldn't they do the same thing for the ones they love?

With a bitter laugh to himself he realizes that no, they wouldn't; they'd never have to. Because the Games are purely for the entertainment of the Capitol. None of their names will ever be tossed into a bowl among the rest of the teenagers in the city, none of them will be chosen and sent to an arena to fight to their death. _It might ruin their nails, _Blaine thinks mockingly, watching as one stylist rubs his chest with a soothing lotion, her long, green, perfectly-manicured nails glinting in the light of the room. They help him into a light blue hospital gown, covering up his skin again. Soon after, a muscular, attractive man walks in, introducing himself as David Martinez, and as Blaine's stylist for the rest of the Games. He, like the others, congratulates Blaine on his heroic act, his thick Capitol accent making Blaine smile. He continues talking, engaging in conversation with Blaine and Blaine decides that yes, he likes David. As they talk Blaine seems to forget where he actually is, that he is being dressed to impress people one last time before he is sent to be slaughtered like an animal. Blaine allows David to dress him, accentuating the fabric production of District 8 quite nicely with bright, vibrant colours, his pants bright yellow, his shirt flowing and reminding Blaine of a river, with greens and blues and reds and every colour Blaine could think of on it, blending together to look like one, but so many at the same time. There are pieces of fabric hanging off the sleeves, reminding Blaine almost of the wings of an exotic bird, the kind they don't have in District 8. There is something of a cape hanging off his back, a multitude of colours bringing it to life. The clothes wrap around Blaine's body perfectly but in a complicated way and David sets to work on his face, dusting him in a thin layer of cover-up which, from what Blaine can tell, contains some sort of shimmer. Looking down at his clothes, Blaine sees the same shimmer in them, as well. David brushes small circles on Blaine's cheeks - _blush, _Blaine thinks- and outlines his eyes with a black pencil, finishing off with the slightest amount of eyeshadow and a little bit of mascara to complete the look.

"All done," David announces, smiling broadly. He directs Blaine by the shoulders to the full-length mirror on the far wall. This is the first time Blaine sees himself since the train, and the first thing he thinks is _wow. _He never thought he could look like this. The colours in the clothing blend perfectly, and bring out every aspect of Blaine's toned body. His dark curls are gelled back, giving Blaine a much more professional look than he'd ever gotten living in District 8. His looks at the reflection of his face, and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. His eyes are the first things he notices and he laughs before he can help it, because Kurt had always said that they were his favourite part of Blaine. _"They're so expressive, and the colour is a perfect shade of honey and green and I find myself lost in them all the time," _he would say before kissing Blaine's nose. _Wait 'til you see me now, Kurt, _he thinks. The small amount of makeup David had used on his face went a long way, and everything seems brighter about him, but maybe that's just the shimmer from the cover up. Overall, although it isn't the most conventional look he's ever seen, comparing himself to the other tributes from District 8 that have gone through, he thinks he looks great. David laughs.

"You look stunning. Way to go, David," he congratulates himself. Blaine laughs at turns to him.

"Thank you," he says. "Really."

David shrugs, still smiling. "It's not a problem. I've done my part, now you have to do yours. _Make yourself memorable," _he advises, and Blaine nods. He takes Blaine by the shoulders again and leads him to the chariots, meeting up with Santana and her stylist. She looks gorgeous, her flowing dress resembling the pattern found on Blaine's clothes, but before Blaine can open his mouth to say so, she cuts him off.

"Damn, Pipsqueak. I'm impressed. If you weren't spoken for and we weren't about to die, I'd totally tap that. Eh, what the hell, that shouldn't stop us," she states, although she's grinning. Blaine throws his head back and laughs.

"Thanks, Santana. You look stunning, yourself. Amazing, really." She smirks in response.

"Yeah, I know, I saw myself earlier. Thanks, though." Blaine laughs and shakes his head. Santana really is something. "Let's go out there and knock 'em dead."

Blaine nods his head, and turns his head to bid farewell to David. "Thank you, again."

"Hey, it's just clothes. The thing they will remember is _you,_" David answers, pointing to Blaine's chest. Blaine blushes and nods.

"Come on, Pipsqueak, we better go or they're gonna forget about us, and we wouldn't want that, would we?" she asks mockingly. Blaine allows her to pull him by the arm and they stand on the chariot, awaiting their cue.

* * *

><p>The opening ceremonies go well, in Blaine's opinion. Nothing too exciting happens but from what he could see, he and Santana were the best dressed. President Snow makes a quick speech, the same one they hear on the screens back home every year and Blaine manages to zone him out, until it's time to get back on the chariots, back to the changing rooms, for David to get him out of his outfit. David makes quick work of it, tugging gently at a seam or two and having Blaine lift his arms. Then he's done, and he is being directed by David to where Emma, Bieste, Santana and her stylist are waiting for him. Emma takes the lead, talking animatedly as she directs them to the building they're staying in until the Games. She hits a button on the elevator and they shoot up, stopping at Floor 8. The five of them step through the doors and a collective gasp can be heard running through the group. Even Santana seems mildly impressed. Emma smiles brightly and walks around the gigantic floor, her arms waving around enthusiastically as she describes the beauty of each individual piece of furniture.<p>

"Hey, Emma?" Blaine asks, sounding timid. Emma turns, smiling widely, seeming irritated that he interrupted her ranting.

"Yes, darling?" she asks through gritted teeth.

"I mean, this is a lovely place, and I appreciate you taking your time to describe everything to us-"

"Literally, everything." Santana interrupts, snickering. Blaine fights back a smile.

"-but this day has been really long and really worn me out, so would you mind just showing me to my bedroom? Besides, I want to be well-rested for our first day of training tomorrow."

Training. Bieste had informed them of it on the train before they reached the Capitol.

"_For a week before you go to the Arena, you will be going through training," Bieste says, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "When you're there, you need to pick up every bit of information you can. Learn how to use weapons. Learn basic survival skills- fire starting, safe things to eat, how to hunt. Without those, you'll die before someone even gets a chance to spear you."_

"_Comforting thought," Santana muses. Bieste ignores her. _

"_I want you to keep your best strengths to yourselves, though. Don't let the Careers see all that you can offer. The element of surprise in the arena could save your life."_

"_What are we saving them for?" Blaine asks, biting his lip. _

"_On the last day of training, each tribute is gonna go one by one into the training room and show a strength to the Gamemakers. They're gonna watch, and rate you from one to twelve."_

_Blaine remembers seeing that during previous Hunger Games. The tributes would be given a rating, and that apparently helped them throughout the Games. Typically, Districts One through Four would get the highest ratings, Five to Nine would get average and Ten, Eleven and Twelve were basically guaranteed low numbers. Every now and then someone would break free of the pattern, the underdog. When Blaine asks how the numbers help, Bieste chuckles and explains to them the idea of sponsors. _

Blaine thinks that he is generally a friendly person, and most people back home are quite fond of him. He told Bieste that, and she clapped her hands excitedly, because '_now it'll be a breeze to find supporters, between the whole lover thing and this!', _which caused Blaine's mood to dampen slightly, because it reminded him of how he got here. _At least it's not Kurt. _

Back in the present, Emma is nodding slightly, her face set in a frown. "Yes, yes, I suppose this can wait for tomorrow." Blaine nods gratefully and follows Emma as she shows him to his room. He walks in and is about to slam the door when a foot stops it from closing.

"Hold up, Pipsqueak," comes Santana's voice from the other side of the door and Blaine backs up, allowing Santana to retract her foot and step through. She closes the door behind her, and Blaine goes to sit on the bed, sighing in contentment when he realizes how soft and comfortable it is. She sits down next on the bed, cross-legged, and turns to face him. "Let's make an alliance."

Blaine can't stop the flutter in his chest, mostly caused by the fact that this reminds him that he and Santana aren't friends. They're tributes from the same district, forced together against their will (well, in Santana's case). They're here to win. "Okay," he agrees.

"Listen close, Pipsqueak. By alliance, I mean, we help each other through everything. We're not going to kill each other, we help each other survive, if we manage to get split up, however, we do our best to stay alive on our own. Got it?" Blaine nods, his face blanching.

"There's one more thing," she says, sounding hesitant. Blaine looks at her to see her face pale as well.

"What is it, Santana?" he asks, worried.

"I don't know about you but... If- if I get hurt, or anything, and I ask you to kill me, I need you to promise me you'll do it."

"No." Blaine says immediately. "I'm not going to do it. I won't kill you."

"So you're going to watch me suffer and beg for death instead of just putting me out of my misery? I don't think so. If I ask you to kill me, you do it, or I am going to do it myself. And I don't think suicide will go over well with the Gamemakers."

Blaine looks down at his hands. "And... what about me? Will you do it for me?"

"I think I'll be dead long before you," she says. "You've got everything you need to win. You'll get the sponsors, you're smart and you actually have the will to fight." Blaine sighs.

"Santana, why do you keep saying you're gonna die? You have a _great _chance of winning. You're strong, you're fiesty-" Santana laughs- "and you're a fighter. Santana, you can totally do this."

She looks down at her hands. "But what if I don't want to?" she asks in a small voice. Blaine's eyes widen, startled.

"What do you mean?" he asks. She looks up at him.

"I mean, if I win, what happens? I have nothing to live for."

"Don't be ridiculous, Santana, you have plenty to live for." Blaine snaps. Santana's gaze hardens.

"Like what? What would you do if Kurt died, huh, Blaine? Would there be anything left for _you _to live for?"

"I-Santana, he's _not going to die, _what are you talking ab-"

"Two years ago. 61st Hunger Games. A girl from our district, our age? Do you remember her? Her name was Brittany. She was chosen at the Reaping, and went to the Games. She died within the first hour. _She _was what I had to live for. And now, what's left? Nothing." Santana's eyes start to mist over. "Listen, Blaine, I _know _what it feels like to lose someone you love to the Games. I'm not going to let it happen to someone else if I can stop it. I have nothing to live for, and you have _everything. _Kurt needs you to come home. I don't even know him and I won't put him through that. Do you understand?" Santana is full out crying by now, tears slipping down her olive cheeks and down her neck. Blaine reaches over and pulls her into a tight hug.

"Okay," he concedes, pulling her against his chest and letting her let it all out. Sometimes, it's nice to be held. Sometimes, someone just needs to hold the pieces together until you can mend them yourself. So Blaine holds her, holds her as she cries and coughs and clutches at his shirt, and they fall asleep like that, without eating or changing their clothes, wrapped in each other's arms.

* * *

><p>Blaine wakes to the morning sun spilling through his window, painting the room a deep yellow. He yawns, and tries to get up, only to realize Santana is still in his room. At some point in the night, they managed to lie down, Santana using his arm as a pillow and effectively cutting off all circulation. His arm is numb now, and he tries to move Santana off without waking her. Of course, life isn't that easy, and she groans the second he pulls his arm from under her head, shaking it out to try and regain feeling.<p>

"Go away," she mumbles, rolling and pressing her face into the pillow.

Blaine chuckles. "Santana, you're in my room."

"Still. Go away."

Blaine shakes his head and laughs, deciding to take the time to actually look around the room. He rolls off the bed and onto the floor, walking towards the first door he sees. Opening it, he realizes it's an enormous closet, with endless amounts of clothing that he would never be able to wear in just one week. Every single item in the closet is nicer than everything he owns at home, and with a bitter laugh he realizes that his mom might've even made something in there. He runs his hand down the sleeve of some type of sweater, sighing at the feel of the soft material slipping between his fingers. He makes up his mind and pulls the sweater off the hanger, along with a pair of red pants, and a fresh pair of underwear off a shelf to the right. He steps out of the closet and shuts the door softly behind him.

To the right of the closet is a frosted glass door and he opens that one, finding himself face-to-face with an elaborate bathroom. The faucets are chrome, the counter is glass, and the floor is a pearly white. There is a shower in the far corner, lined with what seems to be hundreds of buttons. Blaine closes the bathroom door behind him and strips himself, turning on the shower and stepping into the warm stream of water. He closes his eyes and just stands under the water, extravagant showers like this not found in District 8. He amuses himself by testing the different buttons, some changing the water pressure and temperature, others dispensing soap and shampoo and one even washing his hair for him. He must be in there for at least an hour before he decides that he would like to avoid becoming a complete prune and steps out, frowning slightly and shivering as the cold air outside the warmth of the shower hits his skin and brings up goosebumps. He reaches for a towel hanging off the door but is immediately hit with a blast of warm air instead, effectively drying him in about half a second. Slightly surprised, Blaine turns towards the wall where the air came from to see a pale stretch of wall, and no sign of any vents. Shrugging, Blaine tugs on his new clothes and steps out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed and cleaner than he ever has in his entire life. He sees that his bed is empty and figures Santana must've gone to her own room to freshen up.

He leaves the room and heads towards the dining table, his stomach grumbling when he sees the array of food. Not just breakfast foods, but anything he could think of, along with desserts and various pastries. Bieste, Emma, David and Sue (Santana's stylist) are already all at the table, chatting happily and eating off their plates. Blaine takes a seat next to David, smiling when everyone welcomes him. He pulls his plate closer to him and reaches for the first food he can see- some type of eggs, with bacon, chicken, and vegetables spread overtop. He scoops it greedily onto his plate, digging in the second he puts the ladle for the dish down. Santana comes out of her room shortly after that, dressed in a slim-fitting pink shirt and black pants. Her hair is glossy and curly, and she is even smiling a little.

"Good morning, everyone, breakfast can begin now that I'm here," she announces, taking a seat on Blaine's right. Everyone laughs slightly before digging back into their meals. Emma finishes one more small bite before dropping her utensils, wiping her mouth daintily with her napkin.

"Alright, darlings, eat up! Today is your first day of training and you want to be fully energized for that!" She turns and gestures to the couch, where two matching training suits lay, "You are to put those on before you go down. You're expected to be there at 9am exactly, so eat and get dressed right away!" Blaine nods and eats quickly, taking everything he can in until his stomach groans in protest. He stands, stretching his arms behind him in satisfaction. He grabs his suit off the couch and heads to his room to change.

* * *

><p>At exactly 8:58 he and Santana are arriving at the Training Area, fully taking in the other 22 tributes for the first time. They all range in shape in size, the tributes from One, Two, Three and Four very obviously much more confident than those of the weaker districts. Blaine swallows and looks at Santana. Before he has a chance to say anything, though, a loud voice booms out from the speaker above them, welcoming them to training and relaying the standard rules of training to them. After the voice finishes speaking a loud horn blows and the tributes split up, Santana and Blaine staying together.<p>

"C'mon, Santana, let's go learn how to make a fire," Blaine says. When he turns, he finds himself face to face with one of the tributes from District Four. A handsome, tall boy, with chiseled facial features and chestnut brown hair, slicked back and off his forehead. His training suit outlines his body very nicely, and Blaine feels his face reddening. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Not a problem," the boy says, smiling. He sticks out a hand. "Sebastian. District Four. And you are?"

"Uh- I'm Blaine," Blaine says, his voice hardening, just wishing this tribute- Sebastian, he reminds himself- would move out of his way. He has a lot of catching up to do, and he isn't getting much done standing around like this. For some reason, he doesn't get a good vibe from him, but he attributes it to him being a tribute from another district- another person trying to kill him. "Excuse me." Blaine tries to step around Sebastian, but Sebastian stops him, blocking his path again.

"Might I say that you are incredibly handsome," Sebastian says, his body simply exuding over-confidence, from his posture right down to his voice. "From the moment I saw you on your chariot I knew I wanted to be on your side."

"I'm sorry, but can you move? I really don't care for small talk right now," Blaine says rather harshly, in a voice he usually would refrain from using for lack of politeness, but this is the Games, and normal social etiquette isn't required here.

"Consider it?" The boy asks, placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder. Blaine shakes his hand off and steps back.

"Hey! Listen here, Ferret Face," comes Santana's voice from behind Blaine. Blaine grins. "If we wanted to associate with you, we'd say so. But I generally like to stay away from rodents, and a little rat like you is no exception. If you manage to not kill us within the first twenty minutes, maybe we'll consider it. But for now, please move your oversized forehead and lumpy ferret ass away from us before I slice you to chunks with this knife." Blaine looks back and, sure enough, Santana is brandishing a large, silver knife, running the blunt side of the blade between her fingertips enticingly. Blaine looks back at Sebastian's face and laughs when he sees the cheeky grin is gone, instead replaced with a stoney expression and a hint of intimidation. Sebastian takes a step back and turns on his heel, leaving Blaine and Santana to themselves.

"Hmm, I like this," Santana says, turning the knife between her palms. Blaine snorts and drags her towards the fire-building station, Santana taking the knife with her.

* * *

><p>The next few days seem to morph together as they fall into a pattern. Wake up, eat, train, eat, go to bed. Blaine is grateful, though. Without all the new knowledge he's gained, he'd surely be dead in the first minute. Santana seemed to have taken quite a liking to the knives, and Blaine noticed during training that she was quite good at them, too. Good. They learned how to light fires, find shelter, identify what's safe to eat and what isn't and how to use the weapons. Blaine was alright at most of them, with the exception of the spear. For some reason, he couldn't get the hang of throwing it and it always ended up hitting the ground before it hit the target.<p>

Today, however, is possibly the biggest day of training. The day they get rated by the Gamemakers. Emma had woken him up early that morning, giving him and Santana the busy schedule for the day. After eating breakfast, they had training with Emma and Bieste for their interviews, lunch, down to the Training Centre for the Gamemakers, then they see their ratings, and finally, their interviews with none other than Caesar Flickerman himself.

Blaine finishes up his meal, chatting amicably with Santana about anything that comes to mind- training, District 8, Kurt, the Capitol, the delicious food, Kurt. Santana doesn't seem to tire of hearing stories about Kurt, and Blaine never tires of telling them. Soon enough, though, Emma interrupts them to tell them they are too busy for talking. She grabs them both by the wrist and pulls them to the main room, away from the food.

"Alright, neither of you asked to be trained alone, which is good, I can get my job done in one shot!" she exclaims happily. Blaine glances at Santana. Earlier they talked about taking all sources of caffeine away from Emma. It still doesn't seem like such a bad idea. "Anyways, so my job today is to teach you how to look proper during your interviews. No slouching, that makes you look weak. Shoulders and back straight, smile in place, walk with confidence. Now, let's try!"

They spend what seems like hours (and probably is hours) working with Emma, sitting down and then standing up when she complains that they aren't doing it right. They walk into the room, practice waving, practice smiling, and Blaine is pretty sure he's never been so sore in his life. Who knew looking proper could be so taxing? But finally they're done, they have a break for lunch and then it's time to work with Bieste.

"Alright," she says, looking at them with her good-natured grin, "what do you think makes you guys likeable?"

"Well, Cuddles McSappy over here could make the devil fall in love with him. Not to mention his whole 'heroic act' back at the Reaping. If the people aren't in love with him already, I'll cut off my own arm," Santana states, pointing to Blaine and looking completely serious. Bieste laughs joyfully.

"Excellent! And she's right, Blaine. You really do have the entire Capitol in the palm of your hand after that stunt. And I know it wasn't intentional," she says, interrupting Blaine before he could protest- "but it still helps your case a hell of a lot." Bieste turns to Santana. "And as for you, you're hilarious."

"Believe me, she knows," Blaine interjects, and Bieste laughs.

"Yeah, I know. Your confidence is incredible, and you could totally use that to your advantage in your interview. Well, guys, I think you're all set for your interviews! Wow, that was the easiest mentoring I've ever done," Bieste comments, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. "You should probably go get ready for the Gamemakers. You have any idea of what you're gonna do?"

"Santana's taken a liking to the knives, and I think I'm going to show my intelligence. Somehow." Blaine looks down, remembering Kurt telling him to use that to his advantage.

"And how exactly are you gonna do that, Pipsqueak?" Santana asks, sounding intrigued.

"I don't know," Blaine answers honestly.

"You could always build something," she suggests.

"Or, you could use your intelligence to get their attention," Bieste says. "That's the main goal. Be memorable. Do whatever comes to your mind to _get their attention." _

Blaine considers, thinking hard. He thinks for the rest of the time with Bieste. He thinks while he's changing, while they walk to the Training Centre, and by the time he gets there, he thinks he's got it.

"You know what you're gonna do, Pipsqueak?" Santana asks, sounding mildly worried.

"Yup," he replies, "I've got it all under control."

* * *

><p>"<em>Blaine Anderson, District 8."<em>

His name rings through the room and it's time for him to go in front of the Gamemakers. Swallowing hard, he looks to Santana. She smiles and gives him a thumbs up. He rolls his shoulders back, puts a smile on his face, and walks into the room, trying to look confident.

_Get their attention. _

Blaine walks into the room, completely ignoring the Gamemakers. He makes his way straight over to the paints and textures. He grabs a few colours, then goes over to the trees. He stops at each station, picking up random items and moving on. Finally, he has everything he needs. Checking to make sure the Gamemakers aren't paying any attention to him (of course they aren't), he ties a small weight to one of the longer ropes, throwing it and looping it through one of the metal support beams on the ceiling. The weight come back down to him and he unties it, replacing it with a 200 pound weight instead. Using agility he didn't even know he possessed, Blaine climbs the rope and grabs the banister. Once he's up it's easier for him to move, making his way from banister to banister and attaching the things he needs to on each one. He must be up there for at least an hour, hanging tiny leaves from the ceiling in an intricate pattern. Finally, he's done, and he lowers himself back to the ground. He gazes up, admiring his handiwork.

_Get their attention. _

Blaine pulls the rope down and carries it over to the box where the Gamemakers are seated. There is a hook hanging out from just below where they are to practice climbing and he uses it so, tossing his rope as he did before and climbing it. He uses his arms to pull himself up, and holds onto the lip of the railing, pulling himself to the side. He climbs over the railing at this point, and is finally spotted by the Gamemakers.

"Hey!" one shouts. "What are you doing up here!"

_Get their attention._

Blaine ignores him, instead bending down to tap on an older-looking man's shoulder. "Excuse me," he asks politely, gesturing at the man's knife. "Mind if I borrow this?" The man looks shocked but nods, handing Blaine his knife. The others behind him are starting to yell, but he's not listening. All he hears is Santana. "_You have to aim just above where you want to hit. Make sure it's angled perfectly so the blade hits your target, not the butt end". _Blaine had never been more glad for training with her before this moment. He turns his head over his shoulder, says "District 8," and throws his knife, cheering internally when it hits his target.

He slides down his rope in time to hear the collective gasp come from above, and looks up to see them all lined up against the railing, looking over. On the floor, splattered with paint held in leaves he'd tied up on the banister in a complicated pattern, is one word. Blaine makes his way over to the door, shouts a 'thank you' and looks back one more time to see the word before exiting the room.

_Blaine._

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: expect most updates to be longer from now on, the first two chapters were sort of... introductory, I suppose? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed, and would love to hear about it! Sorry about they delay, by the way, Blaine would just not make up his mind about his talent. One more chapter, and then off to the Games!**  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

The past week had been the worst week of Kurt's life.

He hadn't slept at night, and the few times he managed to slip from the realm of reality into dreams it was only for nightmares, of Blaine being killed brutally in the Games by some bloodthirsty creature. He'd woken up every night, screaming and sobbing, thrashing in the sheets and his dad would come in and hold him, whisper soothing words into his ear to try and get Kurt to calm down. Day time was no better. Everywhere Kurt looked he was reminded of Blaine; his room, his house, the little pond they used to sit near together, the shops he and Blaine would walk through, even in the mirror. All he could see was Blaine.

Through all of that, though, Kurt made sure to never lose hope. To lose hope would be to give up on Blaine, and Kurt vowed to _never _give up on him. As Blaine promised he wouldn't, either.

It had been exactly one week and one day since Blaine had left, and tonight was the interviews with Caesar Flickerman. Kurt had been watching religiously since the very beginning, searching for even a hint of Blaine in every broadcast. When the opening ceremonies aired, Kurt was torn between breaking down again because _there was Blaine _and fanning himself because _wow, Blaine looked good. _The stylist had done a flawless job, and Kurt busied himself on more than one occasion by trying to figure out the stylist's technique so that when Blaine came home- and he _would _come home- Kurt could try it out on him again.

For tonight's broadcast, they all gather in the tiny living room of the Hummel-Hudson home. Kurt sits with his back against his father's legs, who is seated on the couch. Carole is next to him, leaning against his arm, and Finn is laying across the floor. The screen is projected onto the yellowing wall, the Capitol's symbol branded into all their minds from its presence on the wall for the past few hours. The interviews are due to start at 8pm sharp, and it was currently 6:30. It wasn't just Kurt on edge; Burt, Carole and Finn were all strung tight as well, their fingers and feet tapping and eyes shifting everywhere. Blaine was just as big a part of their family as any of them were, and it would have been just as bad if it had been Kurt, or Finn. No one speaks; they didn't know what to say. It gives them plenty of time to think, which is the worst part of Kurt's day. So he sits, and thinks, and after an hour of thinking he made his decision, standing abruptly. All eyes in the room immediately shoot to him.

"Where ya goin, buddy?" Burt asks, moving to stand as well.

"No, dad, it's okay," Kurt assures quickly, waving a hand in front of him to stop his father. "I'm... I'm going to talk to Blaine's parents."

"Oh, honey, do you really think that's a good idea?" Carole asks softly, her normally joyful eyes full of concern.

"Why would it not be?" Kurt snaps back. "We love Blaine probably just as much as they do. I'll be back in time for the interview."

If there are any protests he doesn't hear them, as he is out the front door before anyone could say a word.

* * *

><p>Kurt stands in front of the door, wringing his hands anxiously. The last time he'd been here, it had been Blaine behind the door, swinging it open quickly with a huge, playful grin on his face, sweeping Kurt into a warm hug and a sweet kiss before pulling him off into the village, closing the door behind him. Now, however, Blaine isn't behind the door, and Kurt is nervous. He brings his hands up hesitantly and raps his fist off the dark wood.<p>

The door swings open quickly and reveals an ashen-faced Mr. Anderson. "Is there something I can help you with?" he asks tightly. Kurt looks down.

"Mr. Anderson, I... I wanted to invite you and your wife to come watch the interviews with your family. No one should be alone during this, especially you."

Mr. Anderson seems slightly taken aback but he recovers. "I respect your offer but I'm going to have to decline. We have no business in your home, and you have no business in ours." He goes to swing the door shut but Kurt's foot stops it, wincing slightly when the harsh wood connects with his toes.

"Wait, Mr. Anderson, please," Kurt begs, standing up straighter, confidence finding its way into his body. "I know you're angry because Blaine took my spot. Believe me, I know. I'm just as angry, if not angrier. It should have been me going, and I regret it every day. But it's too late to change that. I'm sorry your son... He's just a very good person. His volunteering just shows that you raised him very well." Kurt smiles slightly, and Mr. Anderson's face softens slightly at the compliment. "My family... we love him very much. _I _love him more than anything. He means the world to me, and it would mean the world to Blaine if you and us could come together, be strong for _him, together."_ Kurt finishes his speech and moves to take a step back before a voice speaks up from the darkness of the home.

"We should go, Michael." Kurt looks over Mr. Anderson's shoulder and sees Blaine's mother, standing in her night dress and her hair in a tight bun. She looks exactly how Kurt feels, and Kurt thinks he might have found someone to sympathize with.

"Catharine, are you sure about this?"

"Michael, it's not Kurt's fault. Blaine volunteered, Kurt couldn't have done anything to stop him. Please, I need to get out of this house, I need to get away. I need some hope. Please." Her face is drawn and tears threaten to spill over. Mr. Anderson watches her a second longer before sighing, his shoulders slumping.

"I... Alright," he concedes. "Catharine, grab your coat."

Kurt smiles up at Mr. Anderson. "Thank you. I know this would mean the world to Blaine, and it means the world to me as well. I just... thank you." A single tear slips down his cheek and Kurt tries to hide it, and Mr. Anderson has the decency to look away and pretend he didn't see it.

"Which one is yours, um-"

"Kurt," Kurt supplies.

"Kurt," Mr. Anderson repeats. "Which house is yours, we'll meet you there."

Kurt quickly gives Blaine's father directions to his house (_a left right there, third house on the right)_ and leaves, sprinting back to his own house feeling considerably lighter. Mr. Anderson definitely doesn't approve of him still, but it's progress.

He makes it home quickly, and glances at the time. _7:50. _Only ten more minutes until he sees Blaine again, even if it's just in a projection on the wall. Will he be changed? Will he look different? Probably. Blaine's stylist worked miracles for the opening ceremonies, and Kurt isn't expecting anything less than that now. His family looks up at him when he steps through the doorway, hanging his coat and the hook and turning to face them. They're all waiting for him to speak.

"So?" Burt prompts when Kurt doesn't say anything.

Kurt smiles slightly. "They're gonna come."

"That's great, Kurt!" Burt says, standing up to engulf Kurt in a warm hug. This is the first bit of happiness they've had since Kurt's name was pulled, and no matter how small it is, they're all going to embrace it.

The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door. Kurt and Burt separate quickly, Kurt going to answer the door and Burt resuming his spot on the couch, this time shoving himself right up against the arm to make room for the addition of two people.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, welcome," Kurt says, offering his hand for their jackets. Mr. Anderson's eyes roam around the house as he places his jacket in Kurt's hands.

"Thank you," he replies curtly.

Burt stands and makes his way over to the Andersons. "Hello, I'm Burt, Kurt's father. Nice to meet you." Burt's voice is slightly bitter; after all, the number of stories Kurt has told him about Blaine's parents have made him a little weary. He extends his hand and Mr. Anderson grips it firmly.

"Michael Anderson. Pleasure to meet you, Burt."

The rest of the greetings are exchanged, Mrs. Anderson and Carole hugging each other lightly and Finn telling the Andersons that he's '_totally rooting for Blaine to win'_. It is awkward, partly due to the fact that they are getting to know each other because of their mutual pain, and partly because Blaine's parents are still slightly hesitant. The time for that is soon over, though, because it's 7:59 and the Capitol symbol is starting to shift and morph into the auditorium where the interviews are to be held. Everyone quickly takes a seat, the Andersons on the couch and Kurt at his father's feet again. At exactly 8:00 the theme music for Caesar's show begins to play, with different scenes from each broadcast flicking through until they settle on one of Caesar's smiling face. Caesar's hair is flaming orange, his suit and eyebrows decorated to match. Kurt cringes slightly, because no matter what the circumstances, that is _never _a good fashion choice.

"Hello, Ladies and gentlemen. I am Caesar Flickerman, and welcome to the sixty-third Hunger Games!" Caesar shouts, and the responding cheers from the fans in the Capitol is deafening. "Thank you, thank you!" Caesar says, trying to settle the audience after a few minutes. "Thank you, everyone. My name is Caesar Flickerman, and I get the honourable pleasure of interviewing each tribute before they enter the Games."

The camera pans over the tributes standing behind the curtain as Caesar continues to speak. Kurt can't hold in his gasp as the camera runs over Blaine, who is chatting amicably with the other tribute from District 8, a gorgeous olive-skinned girl. Kurt throws his hand over his shoulder to find his father's waiting there expectantly, strong and solid, just as Kurt needs right now. Although, realistically, Kurt knows that this is Blaine's forte - there's not a single person in District 8 who dislikes Blaine, the boy's a charmer- he can't help but be nervous. That's _his _Blaine. This is his chance to gain sponsors, to get the people of the Capitol to like him. This is his chance to save himself. Burt, sensing Kurt's sudden panic, squeezes Kurt's hand tighter.

"Hey, it's okay, kid. Breathe. Blaine's good at this, he'll have these people in the palm of his hand with his first words." Kurt relaxes at his words, his body falling lax against Burt's legs, but his hand remaining firmly in his father's grip.

They watch the interviews, no one speaking through any of them, even as the boy in Four winks at the camera, or the girl in Six basically pulls down her entire dress while on camera. Finally, it gets to Eight, and Kurt can actually feel the room become more tense. The girl- Santana, he learns- steps on stage, walking with confidence and purpose in a bright yellow, fitted dress, with red and green accents decorating the rest of her. Her caramel skin seems to be shimmering slightly, and her hair is pinned up, with curls falling free. She takes a seat in the open one next to Caesar and smiles coyly, crossing her legs.

"Santana! So nice to meet you!" Caesar greets her energetically. She smiles again and places her hands on her knee.

"Hello, Caesar, nice to meet you, too!" She returns, and if you aren't listening closely you'd miss the hint of mockery in her tone, but Kurt catches it.

"So, Santana, tell me: when your name was drawn from the bowl, what was the first thing that went through your head?"

Santana leans closer to Caesar and places her hand on his knee lightly. "Well, Caesar, I suppose the only thing I was thinking was _finally. _I mean, who wouldn't want to come to the Capitol to participate in some good old manslaughter!" The audience laughs, oblivious to her sarcasm, and Kurt has to cover his own mouth as well. He understands why Blaine and her became friends- it's exactly something Kurt would've said. Kurt finds himself liking Santana more and more the longer she's talking, her witty comebacks and humourous mockery (unbeknownst to the audience in the Capitol) amusing him endlessly. Kurt finds himself glad that she went with Blaine; at least Blaine isn't completely miserable there.

Soon enough, her interview ends, and she's standing and embracing Caesar in a tight hug, before waving to the crowd, smiling to the camera, and strutting offstage. Kurt's impressed. It's short-lived, however, because then Caesar is calling Blaine's name and Kurt's grip on his father's hand tightens, and his entire body seems to be drawn to the screen. The curtains ruffle slightly and then out steps Blaine, his hair slicked back but the curls looser this time, wearing a slim-fitting black suit with similar accents to Santana's, with the yellows and greens and reds. Kurt has to hold in a gasp, his death grip on his father's hand tightening impossibly more.

"Dad..." Kurt whispers, his eyes watering. He's not ready for this. He thought he was, but he's not. But he's going to keep watching, because seeing Blaine through a screen is better than not seeing him at all. So he reaches up to wipe away his tears and focuses back on the screen. Blaine is just taking his seat, smiling a broad, carefree smile, and Kurt can tell already that Blaine has this in the _bag. _

"Blaine, so nice to see you! Such a pleasure!"

"Thank you so much, Caesar, it's an honour to meet you, as well," Blaine replies, and just the sound of his voice sends butterflies through Kurt's stomach.

"So, Blaine, let's get right down to business- a _ten _in training! That's spectacular! How on earth did you do it?" Caesar asks, leaning in as if Blaine is about to tell him a life-changing secret. Kurt smiles slightly. When they'd announced the scores earlier that day, Kurt had been surprised, but at the same time, he hadn't. He knew Blaine would do well, but for him to _actually _do well, for that to be a real thing, was unbelievable. Plus, he kind of wants to know how Blaine did it, as well.

"Oh, now I couldn't tell you that! What fun would that be?" Blaine asks, chuckling. "What I _can _tell you, though, is that the Gamemakers were definitely... surprised." Blaine finishes his sentence with a wink, and if anyone were to ask Kurt the exact moment Blaine won over everyone in the Capitol, that would be his answer. Caesar laughs aloud, clapping his hands together and reaching to pat Blaine's shoulder.

"Get _out!" _he exclaims with a grin, and Blaine only laughs.

"But I didn't even get to finish my interview, Caesar! You've got to give me a chance, I haven't even done any tricks yet!" The whole audience is in hysterics, and even Kurt has to roll his eyes a little. _That's _the Blaine he knows.

"I apologize, Blaine, maybe if we have a few spare minutes at the end, you can come show us!"

"Oh, thank you, Caesar!" Blaine replies dramatically, which causes Caesar to laugh again.

"Alright, alright," he says, trying to get the audience back under control. "Now to the more serious stuff. Blaine- what went through your head at the Reaping?"

Kurt's breath catches in his throat. He knew the question was going to come- no District 8 tribute could volunteer and _not _be asked about it, not to mention how dramatic the whole ordeal was. Even though he knew it was going to come, it still doesn't make him panic any less.

Looking at the screen, Kurt sees Blaine slip into something more desolate, a face that says _the jokes are over_, and Kurt knows that this is the grand finale. That no matter what, Blaine and his escort and mentor knew that somehow, the conversation would turn to this, and they would be ready for it.

"Well, Caesar, I guess... the only thing I thought was _not Kurt. _So I did the only thing I could to keep him from coming here- I volunteered." Caesar's face drops into a more sympathetic look, reaching his hand toward Blaine's knee.

"And this Kurt, he's your..."

"Boyfriend," Blaine answers immediately. Consciously, Kurt feels the tears streaming down his face, but he doesn't bother to try and stop them.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Caesar consoles, and Kurt can see Blaine's eyes begin to glisten.

"I'm not," Blaine says. "As long as Kurt's at home, safe and unharmed, then I'm not sorry for anything."

"Wow. You two really have something good going for you, don't you?"

"Yes," Blaine answers, looking at his hands in his lap for a second before looking back up, fresh tears in his eyes. "Of course. I love him more than anything."

"I love you, too," Kurt whispers hoarsely, not caring that Blaine can't hear him.

"And when Kurt found out you volunteered for him, what did he say?" Caesar asked.

"He-he called me stupid," Blaine answers with a slight chuckle, and the entire audience smiles sadly. Kurt's pretty certain he can even hear someone crying. "But then, he told me that he loves me, and- and that he wants me to come home. To fight, as hard as I can, to come home for him." Blaine pauses, before looking straight into the camera, as if he is looking right at Kurt, "and I will."

Caesar squeezes Blaine's knee lightly before removing his hand. "Indeed you will. Well, Blaine, that's all the time we have for your interview, but I wish you the best of luck in these Games!" Caesar says, cheering up slightly.

"Thank you, Caesar," Blaine replies politely. He hugs Caesar quickly before looking into the camera, mouthing '_I love you'_, and blowing a kiss, causing the entire audience to sigh out an 'awww'. Then Blaine's smiling, walking off the stage and through the curtain, and Kurt breaks down again. His chest is heaving, dragging in each breath as though it were a chore and not second nature and tears are streaming down his face, unyielding and persistent.

"Kurt?" Burt asks, sounding a little hoarse. Kurt turns immediately at the sound of his name. "Oh, Kurt," Burt says when he sees him, pulling him up and embracing him in a tight hug. "Shh, Kurt, it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay," he reassures, running his hand soothingly against Kurt's hair. "Listen, buddy, it's only going to be better for Blaine now. The Capitol is wrapped around his pinky finger right now. I'd be surprised if he doesn't win just off of sponsors alone. _It's going to be okay."_

"I should be there, dad, _I should be there," _Kurt sobs, clutching to his father's shirt like it's his last lifeline. Distantly he hears Mrs. Anderson crying softly, but he pays her no attention.

"No, Kurt. Stop thinking like that," Burt commands, and Kurt looks up, surprised. "It's too late for that now. I know you want to be there instead of Blaine. But it's too late now, and the only thing we can do now is root for him and hope for him to come home. _And he'll come home," _Burt says with conviction. "He's a strong kid. He's gonna come home."

"Kurt?" a soft voice calls, and he turns to see Mrs. Anderson, her face tear-streaked.

"Y-yes?" he asks, separating himself from his father. She doesn't respond, simply opens her arms. Kurt hesitates slightly before walking towards her and stepping into her arms. She pulls him closer immediately, and Kurt settles his head on her shoulder, surprised by the sudden display of affection but not questioning it.

"Thank you," she whispers into his shoulder. "Thank you, Kurt."

"F-for what?"

"For being there. When we- when we weren't." Kurt hears her hiccup and he holds her tighter. They stand for what feels like forever before Kurt pulls away, Mrs. Anderson wiping the tears off her own face. "Here," she says, and uses her sleeve to gently wipe Kurt's away, as well.

"Thank you, Mrs. Anderson," he says, his throat raw.

"Please... call me Catharine."

Kurt smiles and opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by Mr. Anderson, who is suddenly standing in front of him, his own eyes slightly glazed over.

"Kurt, I... I owe you an apology. You're- you're good for Blaine. Clearly, he's very happy to be with you, too. I was wrong, and... I apologize. To all of you," he says, turning to the rest of Kurt's family. "Blaine definitely loves you all, and before, that... didn't settle well with me. Burt," he says, looking directly to Burt. "Watching you, supporting Kurt just now, and supporting Blaine the whole time, makes me hope that one day... I can be as good a father as you."

Burt steps forward and shakes Mr. Anderson's hand firmly. "I'm glad you've finally knocked some sense into yourself," Burt says gruffly. Mr. Anderson chuckles slightly.

"I suppose I deserve that," he concedes. He turns back to Kurt, offering his hand. "I'm sorry, Kurt. Don't expect me to be... better, overnight, but I promise to try. I would really like to get to know you."

"I'd like that, Mr. Anderson," Kurt says with a weak smile, shaking Blaine's father's hand.

"Please, Kurt, it's Michael," he says, smiling.

Yes, it's unfortunate that the circumstances had to be as such for this to happen, Kurt thinks, but it makes him glad nonetheless. He feels slightly better, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He's not alone in this. He has his family, his friends, and now Blaine's family to get him through this. And when Blaine comes home, it'll be to his biological family and his other family coming together as one, in support of him and of Kurt and of all they plan to be.

It's that thought that makes Kurt sleep better that night and, despite the Games beginning the next day, he sleeps without nightmares for the first time that week.

* * *

><p>Although Kurt slept well at night, the morning brings with it the fear and anxiety that he'd left behind the night before. He tries to eat, but with little success. He dresses himself and returns to the living room, taking the same position as the night before. The rest of his family is already there, and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are supposed to be on their way.<p>

_This is it. _

The Andersons arrive quickly and take their seats, everyone saying a quick 'hello' and scooting over to make room for them on the couch. The morning seems to fly by and before they know it, it's 9:50, and Caesar is on the screen, discussing the Games with another host. Their talk seems to last mere seconds and then the screen changes, brandishing the Capitol's symbol before fading to black.

_This is it. _

* * *

><p>Blaine is standing in the holding room with David, wearing the designated tribute outfit- brown pants, a thin black jacket, and lace-up boots. He is pacing, nervous as he's never been before.<p>

"Blaine," David says, grabbing Blaine's shoulders. "You're going to be great. I have faith in you to win- and that's not just because I'm your stylist and I'm supposed to say that."

Blaine smiles slightly. "Thank you, David."

"Just remember- stay away from the bloodbath. Grab anything that surrounds you and then run, don't go straight into the Cornucopia, got it? You're just going to get yourself killed."

"Got it," Blaine assured.

"You and Santana are going to meet up after, right?"

"If it's a possibility, yes, of course." Blaine hopes that it is.

Suddenly, a clear glass tube lowers down into the room, and David smiles slightly. "You've got this, Blaine."

Blaine nods. "I've got this." He waves to David once more before stepping into the glass tube, the glass around him closing and beginning to rise, taking him with it.

_This is it._

* * *

><p>Kurt sits there, clutching his father's hand as the countdown begins.<p>

_60._

_59._

_58._

_57._

_56._

_55._

* * *

><p>The glass tube stops moving and goes down, and Blaine finds himself standing on a platform, in the middle of what looks like a large... dome. It seems relatively high, with tunnels leading off from the dome, about two behind each tribute. In the centre is a large, metal cone, looking as though it were tipped on its side. Spilling out of its mouth is anything a tribute would ever need- weapons, backpacks, food, crates. It is all so tempting, but he remembers what David says and looks around himself instead, spotting a few things he could grab. He looks behind him to see a long, dark tunnel. Before he can worry about the dark, however, he sees a large flashlight, a mere few feet in front of him. The flashlight has a cord sticking out of it, and it's attached to what looks like a backpack. <em>I can get that, <em>Blaine thinks, and braces himself to run.

_43. _

_42. _

_41._

_40._

* * *

><p>Everyone in the living room gasps when the arena is revealed. It's a tunnel system of sorts, all the tunnels leading to each other and to the Cornucopia, some larger than others. Caesar's voice is in the background, saying how the arena was built and the advantages and disadvantages of it.<p>

"Are they in a sewer?" Finn asks.

"That's definitely what it looks like, buddy," Burt replies.

The camera pans out and shows the outside of the arena, two huge domes the only thing breaching the ground. Wait, _two?_

Kurt looks closer and notices that one of the domes doesn't have a roof, and is, in fact, open to the fresh air.

"That's it!" he exclaims, pointing at the screen frantically and startling everyone. "That's how to win! They have to get there! He can do this, I know it! They're not going to survive underground without supplies!" Kurt smiles slightly. Blaine is _smart. _He'll surely realize this and find this other area in no time.

_28._

_27._

_26._

_25._

_24._

_23._

* * *

><p>Blaine looks around, trying to think quickly. His eyes pass over Sebastian, who has the audacity to wink in his direction, and he looks away quickly, disgusted. His gaze falls on Santana and he jerks his head back, towards the tunnels. Luckily, she's only three down, so they agree on the one in between them. She nods slightly, before going back to eyeing the large collection of knives closer to the Cornucopia.<p>

_Please don't be stupid. Please don't get killed, _he thinks, hoping she'll get the message. Somewhere on the other side of the Cornucopia, a huge explosion rocks the entire dome. Blaine looks over in time to see a ground open up and absorb the remains of a boy, one from District 11, he thinks, who stepped off the platform too early. It shocks Blaine for a moment, before he thinks, _one less._

_12. _

_11._

_10._

_9._

_8._

_7._

_6._

* * *

><p>The group in the living room is all breathing deeply, all in shock at what they'd just seen. <em>A boy just blew up. <em>Kurt feels bad for thinking it, but the only thing that goes through his mind is '_one less for Blaine'._

Kurt takes a deep breath. "This is it, dad. _This is it_."

"He can do this, kid." Burt says.

"Yes, he can," says Mr. Anderson.

"He can," Kurt repeats.

_5._

_4._

* * *

><p>Blaine shuffles a little on the platform, being extra careful not to fall off and suffer the same fate as the other boy who dared to jump off too early, as it seems the platforms are all surrounded by explosives.<p>

_I can do this, _he thinks.

_I love you, Kurt, _he thinks.

_This is it, _he thinks.

_3. _

_2. _

_1._

"_Ladies and Gentlemen, let the 63rd Hunger Games begin!_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: A little iffy on this one, but I think it'll do. Also laughing at the cliffhanger mwuhahahaha**_

**_and if you haven't figured it out, the arena is, in fact, almost a gigantic sewage system. Although actual sewage will have never passed through it. And it's all underground (except for the two domes). Let me know what you think, or if I made any errors or anything :)_**


	5. Chapter 5

The second the cannon shoots, the combat begins. Blaine barely has time to react before everyone is running towards the Cornucopia. Without thinking, he sprints forward to grab the backpack and flashlight he'd seen, and dashes towards the tunnel he and Santana had agreed on. Luckily, he makes it there without having to go through the mess of the Cornucopia, and runs into no trouble. He reaches the mouth of the tunnel and runs right into it, reaching back to grab the flashlight and thankful that he did- the darkness seems virtually impenetrable without it. Panting but refusing to stop, he runs as deep into the tunnel as he can before he reaches a crossroad, deciding to stop there and wait for Santana.

After what must've been a half an hour, there's still no sign of Santana. Getting worried, Blaine shines the flashlight back towards the mouth of the tunnel, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. He begins to walk back, this time truly taking in his surroundings. The tunnel is a square shape, made out of some kind of hard metal. It's about twice the height of him tall, and he could probably lay on the ground without his feet touching the other wall. On his way back to the mouth, he passes small plants sprouting from the wall- probably some type of Capitol creation. Sighing, he continues walking. "Santana?" he calls lightly as he picks up his pace. "Santana, where are yo-" Blaine is cut off when he round a corner and rams into something solid, knocking them both to the ground.

"Ah, fuck, Anderson, watch where you're fucking going," comes Santana's voice from the ground, and Blaine pulls himself up, laughing slightly in relief. He offers his hand to Santana, shining the light over her for just a second, but it was long enough for him to see the red.

"Santana! Are you okay?" he asks, releasing her hand and crouching down next to her. He brings the flashlight up and rests it between his shoulder and his left ear, to free up his other hand. Panicking slightly, he reaches to where the blood seems to be coming from. Santana hisses as his fingers brush across the top of her right arm.

"Shit, that hurts like a bitch," she comments, taking deep breaths.

"What the hell happened to you?" he asks, rolling up her sleeve to examine the damage.

"Stupid- ah- stupid Puckerman from 2 got in my way, he got the worst of it," she says, wincing with each word. Blaine wonders for a second how _he _could've gotten the worst of it, but pushes a thought aside when he realizes what that meant.

"Santana, did you go into the Cornucopia? That's exactly what Bieste said _not _to do! You could've been killed!"

"But I wasn't," she defends, smirking her Santana smile, even through the pain.

"Close enough," Blaine mutters. "Here, come on, get up and we'll get further in and away from danger, and then I'll bandage you up." He helps Santana to her feet and moves her right hand over the spot on her arm, instructing her to squeeze it tight and try and stop her body from losing too much blood. He takes her other arm gently and directs her down the tunnel, moving slowly and shining the flashlight as far ahead of them as possible, illuminating the pathway as the light bounced off the metal ground and onto the walls.

Soon enough, they reach the crossroads again, and Blaine pauses to give Santana a break. "Alright, Santana, left or right?" he asks.

"Whichever one means we get to stop soon, I'm exhausted." Blaine sighs and chooses left. They walk down this tunnel for a while, and Blaine notices it's slightly smaller than the one they'd just left.

After about another hour of walking through the same tunnel- really, this arena must be under the entirety of Panem to be this big, Blaine thinks- Blaine pulls them to the side. "Alright, we can stop here," he says, tugging Santana's arm. He doesn't need to convince her any further as she slumps to the ground, head hitting the metal with a dull thud. The blood on her sleeve seems to have gotten much worse, but it doesn't seem to be life-threatening. He notices she has a pack similar to his own, with several handles sticking out of it.

"Santana…" he asks, taking the pack, "how far into the Cornucopia did you go to get these?"

She looks up at him from her place at the ground and smiles again. "All the way, Pipsqueak. You can't get quality shit like that on the outskirts. Lost my other one to the side of Puckerman's head, though. Shame, really." Blaine snorts slightly. "What else is in the bag?"

Blaine shrugs, pulling his own bag in front of him along with Santana's. He unzips the first one and begins to pull out items. "In yours, you've got… holy shit, Santana, 7 knives? What do you need those for?" He shakes his head. "Umm… there's a couple packages a food, a full bottle of- oh, water! An empty water bottle, some more food, and… is this a blanket?" he asks, pulling the large square of cloth from the pack.

"Looks like it," Santana says, rolling some of the material in between her index finger and her thumb. "What do you have?"

Blaine looks through his pack. "I've got the same things, except less of everything. And no knives. But I do have a flashlight," he says. "Here-" he pulls out his own blanket- "We can share a blanket and I'll use this to wrap you up." He rips a tear into the blanket and pulls a strip away, roughly the width of his own arm, and the length of the whole blanket. He helps Santana roll her sleeve back again, and he uses a corner of the rest of the blanket to clean the wound out a little bit. She shouts and threatens to chop Blaine's leg off but he keeps going, until all the blood is cleared away and just a wide cut is left. It's not as bad as it seemed, about as long as his thumb and not very open. He quickly sets to work, wrapping the cloth around the cut as tightly as he dares, but not enough to completely cut off circulation- Santana losing an arm would not benefit them at _all. _He ties off the end, and helps Santana to her feet.

"Move your arm, see if it's too stiff," he instructs, and she spins her arm around, wincing slightly but it manages to make it all the way around without difficulty.

"Thanks, Pipsqueak," she says, smirking.

"No problem. Thank god it wasn't your throwing arm, or else we'd be screwed." It's true. If anyone approaches them in the Games, Blaine has no doubt that Santana would be the one to kill them. Maybe he has to be in the moment, but even now in the arena, he doesn't think he'd have it in him to kill someone unless it was absolutely necessary. Santana clearly doesn't feel the same- she'd already killed one person. "Wanna keep walking? Or do you wanna spend the night in here?"

"Let's just go a little further, to make sure we don't run into the crazies," Santana says, and turns to continue deeper into the tunnel, the earthy metal scent of the tunnel invading their senses. Blaine laughs.

"Santana, this is the Hunger Games. Everyone in here is a crazy."

"True, Pipsqueak. Now shine your light and let's get moving."

* * *

><p>The duo walk until their legs refuse to carry them anymore. Neither of them have any idea of the time of day, or where anyone else is. In Blaine's opinion, this arena is truly the worst he's ever seen. Every aspect of it is completely numbing, isolating, and it's terrifying. They both slump against the closest wall, exhausted. Blaine goes to turn the flashlight off when a slight scurrying along the metal floor startles them both. Blaine immediately sits up straighter. He shines his light towards the noise and both him and Santana shriek, only to realize it's not another tribute.<p>

It's a rabbit.

Blaine shouts without thinking. "Santana, knife it!" Santana hardly processes what he said before she takes the knife she'd been holding and throws it with expert aim, catching the rabbit in the tail end. It hops feebly once more before dropping to the ground. Blaine runs over and grabs it.

"What the hell is a rabbit doing in the tunnel?" Santana asks.

Blaine inspects the rabbit. "I don't know. But we shouldn't eat it yet." Santana looks at him like he's crazy. "Honestly, San, how often do you see rabbits in metal tunnels?"

"I wouldn't know," she answers sarcastically, "I don't exactly spend much time in them back home." Blaine rolls his eyes.

"You know what I meant." He looks down at the rabbit again, searching.

"Okay, so, what's your point?"

"My _point _is that this thing is probably a creation of the Capitol, and they sent it here on purpose to kill us. We're not exactly doing anything exciting."

"What the hell are they on? I stabbed that kid in the head like 5 hours ago, I thought that was pretty damn interesting! I was pretty impressed!"

Blaine laughs slightly. "I don't know. But let's just have a bite of a cracker, then we'll get some rest and start searching for more food tomorrow. They'd never leave us here with no resources at all."

He takes his seat against the wall of the tunnel, Santana's head immediately falling against his shoulder. He allows her to rest on him, and hears her breathing even out within seconds. He lets his own eyes fall shut despite his brain telling him that he should stay awake, stay on guard until Santana's awake again, and lets sleep overtake him.

Blaine is awoken by the sound of a cannon firing. Confused, he sits up and looks over at Santana, who has a knowing look on her face. "It's Announcement Time," she says, mocking.

"Right," Blaine says, and is sure to count the number of cannons that fire. _Two, three, four, five, six, _he counts, up until he gets to fourteen and the cannons stop. _Fourteen tributes. _That seems like an incredibly large number, even for the first day. He shudders, but continues to listen as the Capitol's national anthem rings through the tunnel, echoing and loud. Somehow, the Capitol manages to display their symbol on the wall of the tunnel, and Blaine glares at it, waiting for it to go away. Then the music is done playing, and everything seems to go back to normal. He turns to Santana.

"Fourteen down," he says.

"Only ten left," she adds, looking serious.

"Two of them are us."

"But one of us is going to win," she counters, looking pointedly at him.

"Santana, I-"

Blaine is cut off by sudden footsteps echoing through the tunnel. Blaine and Santana are immediately on their feet, weapons in hand. Blaine turns his flashlight on and turns it towards the sound.

"Hey, pretty boy," comes a voice from around the corner. Before the person even rounds the corner, Blaine knows who it is and he scowls, seeing red.

Sebastian rounds the corner, winding rope crossing over his chest and shoulder and a spear in hand. He looks in relatively good condition, a few cuts and scrapes littering his otherwise flawless skin. The same, cocky grin is still in place and his chestnut hair is somehow still glued back, not a hair out of place.

"Step one inch closer and I'll cut your ferret face right off," Santana warns, seething.

"Hey, now, we're all friends here!" Sebastian says, stepping closer anyways. Blaine and Santana both raise their knives. "Listen, I'm not here to kill you."

"Then what do you want?" Blaine spits out, knife still up.

"I want an alliance," Sebastian says simply. "I need you two, and you two probably need me."

"Why the fuck would you think that?" Santana asks. "We're fine without you- actually, we're even better off if you're gone," she adds, gesturing with her knife.

"Can you two catch anything? Probably not. Can you defend yourselves from the Careers? Probably not. Do you have an entire sack full of food that you stole right from the Cornucopia? Again, probably not." Sebastian puts his spear on the ground and walks closer. "Obviously you two don't realize that I'm from District Four. I can string us up traps, catch us food, really do anything with these two things I have here. I'm here to help you, not kill you."

Blaine looks over to Santana who stares back at him for a second before shrugging. "Fine," he says, putting down the knife. "But you touch either of us, and I'll have your head before you can even open your mouth. We clear?"

"Crystal," Sebastian answers confidently, plopping down beside Blaine with a grin. "Your face is still as gorgeous as always, I'm impressed." He reaches up to brush Blaine's hair away from his face but Blaine grabs his wrist with his free hand, and twists it behind Sebastian's back.

"What did I just say? _Do. Not. Touch. Me."_

Sebastian winces and wiggles his fingers. "Alright, alright," he concedes and Blaine lets him go. "I just thought that maybe you'd want some fun."

"Blaine, can I do it? Just, like, right now. He won't even feel it-unless you want him to," Santana begs from her position behind Blaine. He turns to face her as Sebastian rubs his wrist and arm.

"Not yet, we might need him. He does look like he could be helpful." Blaine sighs resignedly and sits against the wall again, Santana following suit.

"Alright, Ferret Face, you sleep while I take watch. You too, Pipsqueak." Sebastian comes and sits next to Blaine, turning to face them.

"Have you guys seen any animals down here?" he asks. Both of them nod.

"Yup, we caught a rabbit." Blaine gestures to the dead animal, yawning.

"He was running that way when Pipsqueak saw him," Santana adds. Sebastian frowns.

"Same. I caught another one further back, but going this way. I followed its trail and found you two."

"Wait a minute…" Blaine says, thinking. "You said… he was running this way, too?"

"Yup," Sebastian confirms. "Why?"

"It means, they were both clearly going to the same spot. What do animals live off of?"

"The same shit as humans…" Santana says, her eyes widening. "Do you think…"

"That they know where the food and water is? That's _exactly _what I think," Blaine confirms, his face brightening. "We'll all catch up on some sleep and head that way, sound good?" The other two nod and Blaine rests his head against the wall, glad that finally, they have a plan.

Finally, they have a chance.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So this one was really just a filler, just them getting used to the arena and the games. in the next chapter, things will pick up again :) Tell me what you think! I'm lellathellama on tumblr, and a big thanks goes to blainageatrois on tumblr for cheerleading and editing and telling me what to do and coklaine for looking it over :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: slight warnings in this chapter for references to sex I suppose? And a small amount of violence. Own nothing!**

* * *

><p>After resting for a few hours each, everyone taking a shift on watch, the trio decides it's time to continue on. After all, this game was about killing the other tributes, and there wasn't much to do staying still. They all agreed that they'd much rather avoid death than search for others to kill, so they continue walking in the direction they think is taking them away from the Cornucopia. "The Careers have set up camp there, obviously," Sebastian had informed them earlier, "and they have access to every weapon you can think of. We should avoid them for as long as possible, try to get them to kill each other off before we have to do it." Blaine and Santana were quick to agree.<p>

"Alright," Blaine says, stopping to take a small sip of water. "Are we still going in the direction of the animals?"

"I think so," Sebastian confirms. He crouches down to inspect the ground and Blaine's not sure what he's looking for, but when Sebastian straightens back up, he has a slight- but clear- smile. "Footprints," he explains, pointing to a small spot in the layer of dirt at the bottom of the tunnel. Blaine and Santana look at each other dubiously before crouching down as well and sure enough, there it was, a print about the size of the pad of Blaine's thumb.

"Are you shitting me right now?" Santana asks, glaring back up at Sebastian. Blaine throws his head back and laughs, standing up straight and helping Santana to her feet. "_That's _what we're following?"

"It's better than wandering around lost in this tunnel until a Career or someone else finds us," Sebastian retorts, eyes narrowing.

"Besides," Blaine adds, "we're going to need to find more food and water or else we're going to die without even seeing another tribute." Blaine closes his water and rattles it, the water sloshing around in the plastic ominously. Santana sighs and rolls her eyes.

"Fine, but I'm getting tired of hearing the rat's voice, can you check if there's a muzzle in my pack?" Blaine smiles slightly.

"What's your problem with me?" Sebastian asks, wearing the same smirk that seems to be permanently fixed on his face. "I'm here to _help you. _If you don't want my help that's fine, I'll just turn around right now and leave."

"I don't _like you _because _you're _an _asshole,_" Santana says slowly. Sebastian just chuckles, and it sends unpleasant shivers down Blaine's spine.

"Come on guys, let's go, we'll be out of here soon." _Actually, only one of us will be, _Blaine adds in his head as the other two begin to walk again. _Maybe, none at all._

* * *

><p>It's only after walking a few more hours that they find something new; a change in the scenery. It's small, but it's there, and they notice it immediately. Actually, it's Santana who sees it first.<p>

"Hold up, guys," she says, grabbing Blaine's shoulder with her good arm and pulling him to a stop, Sebastian nearly running into them from his place behind them.

"What is it?" Blaine asks, immediately on guard. He reaches towards his pocket to pull out his knife but Santana stops him, instead pointing to a spot on the wall. Blaine looks to where she's looking and, sure enough, there it is. Sebastian's voice comes from behind them, interrupting the sudden silence.

"Is that... a plant?"

Blaine steps closer to inspect the wall. Just as he thought, there sits a plant, about the length of his index finger with simply five leaves on it, its dark green colour making it almost impossible to spot against the wall. It is curved, the end of it facing the direction that they were walking in, pointing further down the tunnel.

"Why the hell is there a plant growing from the wall?" Santana asks, clearly confused. Sebastian shrugs, but then it dawns on Blaine.

"Guys..." He says, his eyes widening and his body leaning even closer still. "...That's not a normal plant."

"Well obviously not, handsome," Sebastian says, and even he sounds slightly impatient. "Clearly, your good looks and your charming smile are all you've got running for you."

"Can you _shut up_ for two seconds and let me finish?" Blaine snaps, tearing his eyes away from the plant at last to glare at Sebastian. He simply shrugs and throws his hands into the air, the corners of his lips curved upward. Blaine turns back to the plant. "_As I was saying..._ This isn't a regular plant. I think..." he says, brushing his fingers along the leaves of the plant, " I think that the Capitol put this here... to direct us."

"What do you mean?" Sebastian asks, coming to stand next to Blaine- a little too close, in Blaine's opinion.

"I mean, that I think they put this here as a checkpoint. To say we're going in the right direction. Plants can't grow down here on their own, it's obviously a muttation of some sort. Look, it's pointing us in the right direction." Blaine pauses to look at the other two. "I think they _want _us to find the water."

"Well, Pipsqueak, I'm impressed," Santana says, clicking her tongue appreciatively. She claps her hand onto Blaine's shoulder.

"Are we gonna keep walking, or stand here forever?" Sebastian inquires impatiently. Blaine and Santana nod, and begin walking in the same direction again, slightly faster than before. The taste of victory sweet on Blaine's tongue keeps him going, with more ambition than he'd ever had in the arena.

* * *

><p>Kurt slumps against the couch, a small smile playing on his lips. It's the fourth day in the arena, and both Blaine and Santana are alive. That Sebastian guy is with them, as well, but Kurt doesn't feel right about him. Something just seems... off.<p>

"Didya hear that, Kurt?" Burt asks, tapping Kurt on the shoulder lightly. Kurt smiles without looking over.

"I told you he'd figure it out, dad, I just _knew it._" From the moment they'd shown the outdoor arena, Kurt knew that Blaine would be able to figure it out. He was a smart person, and Kurt had no doubt that that's what he used in front of the Gamemakers.

"Blaine's always been intelligent," Mrs. Anderson comments from her spot on the other side of the couch. Mr. Anderson is sitting next to her in a kitchen chair, with Carole on the floor, leaning against Burt's legs. Finn went with his friends to the Justice Building, to watch on the larger screen there.

Mr. Anderson squeezes his wife's hand and smiles softly. "Yes, he has," he agrees. "Hopefully he can use it to get rid of that Sebastian character. Something about him bugs me. I hope Blaine can see it, too." His forehead creases in worry.

For not the first time, Kurt finds himself nodding in agreement.

* * *

><p><em>Soft lips move against his own. Fingers tangle in his hair, a warm body moving in sync with him, hips rolling together in harmony. Blaine moans, eyes squeezed tight as lips move to his neck, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the overheated skin.<em>

"_Mmm, you taste so good," Kurt mumbles against his neck, the vibrations sending shivers down Blaine's spine. _

"_Kurt, please..." Blaine trails off, fingers pressing into Kurt's shoulder blades. _

"_What is it, baby?" Kurt asks teasingly, and Blaine can feel his smile. _

"_I just... anything..." All of Blaine's senses feel overwhelmed, nothing's ever felt this good before, he just needs more... more... so desperate..._

"_It's okay, I've got you." Kurt's lips move from Blaine's neck to his collarbone, sucking and marking and leaving a wet trail. _

"_I love you so much," Blaine moans, fingers tightening against Kurt's back. _

"_Mmm, love you too," Kurt says, moving down to Blaine's chest. He reaches a hand up and brushes his thumb across Blaine's nipple, causing a spark of electricity to shoot through Blaine's body. "You like that?" Kurt asks. _

"_Yes, fuck..." Is all Blaine can reply. Kurt chuckles and mouths further down Blaine's chest, his lips reaching the point just under Blaine's navel. Blaine moves his fingers to Kurt's hair, twisting his fingers tightly, just the way he knows Kurt likes. Kurt hums in response, and his lips start moving lower, lower, and they're almost where Blaine wants them and Blaine is moaning and squirming and-_

"Pipsqueak, for the love of god, wake up!" Santana's voice breaks through Blaine's dreams, waking him immediately. "You've been squirming on the ground for like, ten minutes, what were you dreaming about, jesus!" Blaine groans miserably and sits up. Of all the times to wake him up, why, _why _did it have to be then?

"What is it, Santana?" he snaps, rubbing his eyes. Somewhere next to him on the floor he hears rustling, and knows that Santana's shouting has woken Sebastian as well.

"Pipsqueak, were you... oh my god..." Santana mumbles as realization dawns on her. "Were you... having a _sex dream?_ Oh my god! You totally were!" Santana throws her head back and laughs, and Blaine can feel his face redden, right up to the tips of his ears.

"I... no, I wasn't," he denies, but even he knows it's a feeble attempt.

"I can't even believe it. You just had a sex dream. Was it about Kuuuuurt?" Santana drawls, clearly enjoying this much more than she should.

"I _didn't _have a sex dream, but if I _did, _who else would it even be about?" Blaine asks, defensive. _I'm so sorry Kurt, _he thinks miserably, after he realizes that he basically just told all of Panem he was having a sex dream about his boyfriend.

"It's okay if it was about me, Blaine, there's no need to be ashamed," comes Sebastian's cocky voice. Blaine just rolls his eyes.

"Fat chance, Sebastian. Even if you were the only guy left on this _planet, _they'd probably start being about the girls before one was about you." Santana laughs again and Blaine smirks. He glances down quickly, thanking any god he can think of that his dream didn't cause any... unexpected surprises.

"Wow, that made my day infinitely better, thank you, Pipsqueak, for your incredibly horny subconscious," Santana says, still amused. "Now let's keep going, before Blaine decides he needs to start humping the wall or something."

"Are you going to be making fun of me all day?" Blaine asks, wiping a hand down his face.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Santana asks, sounding mock offended. Blaine rolls his eyes and sighs. Today is going to be a long day.

* * *

><p>Even with his face buried in his hands, Kurt can hear the awkward laughter coming from the people surrounding him. Well, mainly Carole. Burt, and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson are all torn between staring wide-eyed at the television or staring at Kurt.<p>

"Did... did my son just admit to having a- an inappropriate dream on national television?" Mrs. Anderson asks in shock, and Carole has to stifle another giggle.

"One that involved _my _son?" Burt adds.

"Oh, it's not like we didn't know it would happen. They both love each other, and they can't exactly get pregnant," Carole says through her laughter.

"Can we _please _stop talking about this?" Kurt begs, his face heating up in embarrassment. Leave it to Blaine. Leave it to Blaine to have a _sex dream _about _him _in _the middle of the Hunger Games. _

"I second that!" says Mr. Anderson.

"From an outsider's perspective, I mean, I guess that could go well with sponsors...? Maybe it could show just how in love they are...?" Burt tries again, clearly fighting his fatherly instinct to wrap Kurt in his arms and never let him out of his sight again. Kurt opens his mouth to respond but it cut off by the door slamming open.

"Kurt!" Finn pants from the doorway. "Dude, Blaine totally just said he was dreaming about you two doing it! I don't even know what to think of that!" Kurt drops his face back into his hands. "Remind me to high-five him when he comes home!"

"I'm going to kill him," Kurt replies, his voice muffled by his hands. He shakes his head, disbelieving.

_Leave it to Blaine._

* * *

><p>"Anyone know how much further we have to go? My whole body is about to disintegrate," Santana complains from behind Blaine.<p>

"It shouldn't be too much farther, the plants are getting bigger and there's a lot more of them," Blaine says, trying to ease Santana. He reaches into his bag and takes another small sip of water, his muscles aching and his eyes fighting to stay open. He bites into a piece of jerky, trying to re-energize himself, although at this point, it doesn't seem very possible.

"Can we take a break?" Santana begs, and Blaine fights against every instinct that tells him _yes, please, yes. "_I don't even have the energy in me to make fun of Pipsqueak for dreaming about having gay, gay sex with his lovely boyfriend."

Blaine squeezes his eyes tightly shut, ignoring the last part. "No, we can't. We're almost there, and there's no point in giving up when we're _so close." _Blaine isn't sure if his mind is just playing tricks on him or not, but he's pretty sure the air even smells cleaner. They are _so close. _

"Fine, but do you think it's safe to eat one of these plants?" Blaine frowns. He hadn't thought of that.

"I... don't know," he answers honestly. He steps closer to the wall, which has three different plants sprouting from it, each about a foot long with leaves about the size of Blaine's forearm. "Sebastian, what do you think?" Blaine pauses, waiting for Sebastian's reply. "...Sebastian?"

"Thanks for all your help, Pretty Boy. I'll make sure to say 'hello' to Kurt for you in my Victory Tour."

Blaine turns around just in time to hear Santana's shriek of agony pierce the air, and vibrate off the tunnel walls as her body falls to the floor, a large handle sticking out of her stomach as blood spreads through the material of her shirt and onto the grimy tunnel floor.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't kill me lol<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Before we start this chapter, I would just like to say i am SO SORRY for the wait. I've been out of town and at festivals and tournaments and running fundraisers and Cedar Point (woo) and I've hardly had time to do any homework, let alone write this chapter. The next one definitely won't be as long of a wait. :)**

**Warnings for this chapter: slightly gory, but nothing worse than the original Hunger Games book. **

**You should grab a kleenex.**

* * *

><p>"<em>Santana!" <em>Blaine shrieks as he watches Santana's body fall to the ground in slow motion. The minute her back hits the ground he hears heavy footsteps behind him, and before he can think he turns around and begins to run. Subconsciously, he realizes he should stop running, stay and help Santana but he just can't get his feet to stop moving. The air tears its way out of his throat as he runs through the tunnels, following the sound of the feet despite the sound starting to dissipate.

"_Smythe!" _Blaine shouts, slowing down. "_I'm going to kill you!" _Blaine stops completely, but it doesn't stop him from shouting still. "_I'm going to kill you if it's the last thing I do in this god damned arena!_" He promises, tears beginning to fall from his eyes. _"I hate you!" _he sobs. He turns around and he can hear Santana crying out his name so he begins to run back, the tears flowing heavily down his cheeks and soaking into the collar of his shirt.

"Blaine!" He hears one last time before he rounds a corner and finds Santana, her shirt covered in blood and her eyes watering. He immediately runs to her side and grabs her hand, noticing for the first time that the blade of the spear did not hit directly in the middle of her stomach, rather more towards the side, and lower down.

"Santana, I am so so sorry, this is all my fault," Blaine babbles, scrubbing his other hand across his eyes to wipe away the tears. "He-he tried to kill me but-"

"I jumped in the way, you idiot," Santana interrupts, her voice barely above a whisper. "I told you, I'm gonna protect you as best as I can because _you can win this."_ Blaine's grip on Santana's hand is like a vice, but neither of them care.

"No, no, no, no," Blaine chants as she finishes, shaking his head back and forth wildly. "Why, Santana, _why? _Why would you do that, oh god," Blaine can't seem to control himself, and Santana reaches up with her free hand to slap him across the face- though, she is too weak to put any real force behind it.

"Pipsqueak, will you get a hold of yourself for five seconds?" She asks, wincing. "This hurts, so much."

"I know, I know but you'll be okay," Blaine says, to reassure himself as much as Santana.

"I know you'll make it back to Kurt, Blaine," Santana says matter-of-factly, panting wildly. "You love him enough to make it back. I know you can do it."

"Santana, no," Blaine says. "You're not giving up. Fight through it, you can _make it._" Blaine grinds his teeth together, angry that Santana is giving up so easily.

Santana easily ignores him. "This ground is really gross," she says instead.

Blaine laughs and the noise sounds foreign, even to his own ears. "It is. Do you want me to help you up?"

Santana opens her mouth wide for a second, seemingly in pain, before shaking her head. "No. It-it hurts too much. Just leave me here."

Blaine nods and stays silent, his grip on Santana's hand still tight. He sees her look down at the blood seeping into her shirt all over and her face pales. He squeezes her hand and talks quickly to distract her, to keep the red from overtaking her.

"Santana, tell me about Brittany," he asks, making himself more comfortable. He clears his throat to try and make himself seem less concerned about her, but it doesn't work and the tears still fall, his breath still shakes.

"Well," Santana begins, smiling slightly as she thinks of the only person she'd ever felt love for, the only person who brightened her day no matter what. "She had gorgeous blonde hair, she was tall, overall absolutely stunning. She- some people called her dumb, but I don't think she was dumb. She wasn't dumb. She was just... special." Blaine nods his head, showing his understanding.

"I wish I could've met her," Blaine says, looking into Santana's eyes.

"I know I made fun of you for having that dream the other night, but you should know that every other night, you dream about Kurt, too," she tells him.

"I know," Blaine says, smiling slightly. "I always dream about Kurt."

"I hear you crying his name, every night," Santana informs Blaine. "It's really heartbreaking."

Blaine feels slightly taken aback. "I cry?"

"When you're not dreaming of banging him, yeah, you cry. I know you love him enough to get back. Do you think that you do?" Santana asks, looking up at Blaine through her wet eyelashes and wincing at every breath.

"Yes, of course I d-"

"Then I need you to do something for me," Santana says, interrupting Blaine.

"I- what is it?" he asks, gripping her hand in both of his.

"Blaine..." Santana begins, closing her eyes slowly, causing the tears clinging to her lashes to slide down her face. Blaine can't help but notice how beautiful she looks, even now as she lays here, in the worst pain imaginable. "Do you remember, back in the Training Centre, when I said that-" Santana stops to catch her breath "-when I said that if I was hurt, that you- you need to-"

"_No,_" Blaine denies immediately, his eyes shut as a sob rips out of his throat. "No, I won't. I won't. You're going to be okay."

"Blaine, I'm not," Santana says, a sad smile on her face, pain still evident in her eyes. "I won't be okay, and you're just going to waste your time here and p-please, it hurts so much, I just want it to stop..." she trails off, her breath coming in quick pants.

"Santana, _no, _I'm not going to do it, you're going to be okay, _you're going to be okay!" _he shouts. He won't do this, there's no way she can actually ask him to _kill her. _

"Please, Blaine, you promised-" Santana tries again, but Blaine cuts her off.

"I know what I said! But please, please don't make me do this, Santana. Please don't give up. _Keep fighting!" _

"For what?" Santana asks softly. "There's nothing left to fight for."

"For me," Blaine tries. "Please, stay alive for me."

"I'm sorry, Pipsqueak-"

"No, Santana, don't do this-"

Santana looks Blaine straight in the eye, her dark eyes telling him to stop talking. "You're going to win, Blaine. You're going to win and you're going to make it home to see Kurt, and you're going to get that rat bastard Smythe, and you're going to be happy like I could never be."

It's at this moment that Blaine decides he despises the Capitol, with every fibre of his being. They force teenagers- some still considered children- to fight like animals for their entertainment. _What gives them the right, _Blaine thinks as he watches Santana close her eyes to the pain. The pain that is so much, but not enough to kill Santana. Not enough so that he won't have to do it. _How could they tear apart peoples' lives like this. _With another sob, Blaine nods his head slightly.

"I-I'll do it."

Tears slip down Santana's cheeks and onto the grimy floor of the tunnel once more as Blaine grips her hand tightly.

"Thank you, Blaine." Santana says, reaching up with a shaky hand and cupping Blaine's cheek. Blaine sucks in a deep breath and stands up, his whole body shaking. _Maybe this isn't real_, he thinks as he walks over to their packs. _Maybe I'm just dreaming. _He reaches into the pack and grasps one of the handles, tugging it out, the metal reflecting off the dim light in the tunnel.

"I'm so, so sorry, Santana," he says once he returns. Santana just swallows and nods.

"You're going to be great, Pipsqueak." Blaine leans down next to her and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Aww- such a sweetheart." Blaine laughs wetly as he straightens up again.

"You-you sure?" He asks, gripping the knife.

"Positive. Make it quick," she says, closing her eyes.

"I love you," Blaine says, and knows that Santana understands. They've only known each each other for less than a few weeks, but Santana already feels like family. The sister that he never had. And now, all too soon, it's about to be ripped away from him.

"You, too, Pipsqueak," Santana says with a slight smile, eyes still shut. "If I would've met you back in the District, I'm sure we would've made great partners in crime."

"I agree," Blaine says, laughing again.

"Bye, Blaine." Blaine drags his fingers across Santana's cheek softly before pulling back.

"Goodbye, Santana."

Blaine manages to hold his tears as he raises his hands, as he brings them down and plunges the dagger straight into Santana's heart- the least amount of pain. He holds them through her final shriek of pain, and as he sees Santana's body go limp against the floor. He holds them as he pulls the knife out. He promised her he would be strong. He even manages to hold them as he picks her up and pulls her close, wrapping himself around her until her eyes slide completely shut and he hears a cannon go off. He reluctantly lets go of her body, laying one last kiss on her cheek and wiping a single tear from his own as he moves away. He holds them as the tunnel opens inward, the top coming down to completely block off his view of Santana, and holds them as the tunnel closes itself back up.

It's only then that he allows himself to cry.


	8. Chapter 8

**WOW OKAY SO I AM ONE OF THOSE FIC WRITERS WHO TAKES TWELVE YEARS TO WRITE DAMMIT I'M SORRY NEXT TIME IT WILL NOT TAKE THIS LONG I'VE JUST HAD EXAMS AND WE'RD REDOING OUR HOUSE AND A MILLION OTHER THINGS BUT IT'S SUMMER NOW SO YAY FOR QUICKER UPDATES** **WHY IS THIS SENTENCE SO LONG AND CAPITALIZED WHY OKAY GO FOR IT**

* * *

><p>Blaine feels as though he's been sitting there for hours. Days, even. Who knows, maybe he has. He thinks maybe he fell asleep, but he's not really sure. After Santana's body was carried away, everything became a blur until now. He's not really sure how many tributes are left anymore, but he thinks he heard one more cannon go off since Santana's death. The death that he caused. <em>It wasn't your fault<em>, his conscience reminds him. He ignores it. He knows it's his fault, all of it.

_There was nothing you could do._

Blaine wipes angry tears off of his cheeks and pushes himself off the floor. After the tunnel opened and closed, Santana's body had been moved, but Blaine had not. He'd stayed sitting in the same spot, Santana's blood staining the floor of the tunnel. He dusts off his pants and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He shakes his limbs out, trying to regain the feeling, and gathers up their things. _Your things, now, _he reminds himself. He shakes his head one more time, willing himself not to cry anymore. Although Santana is gone, he is still in the games, and there is still, if his memory serves him correctly, seven tributes left. He knows of himself and Sebastian, but there is still five others. Blaine puts the now slightly-bulging pack onto his back, picks up his flashlight, and begins to walk.

_I'll be home soon, Kurt._

* * *

><p>In the Hummel living room, no one speaks a word. The Andersons hold each other closely, Mrs. Anderson wiping tears from her eyes. Finn is laying on the floor, his mouth hanging open and eyes wide. Carole has her face in her hands, her soft sniffles audible throughout the room. Kurt clutches onto his father, which he has been doing since Santana first got stabbed.<p>

"Dad..." Kurt whimpers, tears falling steadily onto his father's shirt.

Burt pulls Kurt closer, his own eyes watery. "Kurt, it's okay, buddy. Blaine is okay."

"No he's not!" Kurt protests. Yes, physically he is okay, but Kurt knows Blaine better. Kurt knows that Blaine will never, _ever _recover from this. Seeing Blaine in so much pain, having to kill his best friend there, sent Kurt over the edge, and he'd been crying ever since.

"I just w-want him to come home," he says, voice thick with tears.

"I know, Kurt. We all do."

* * *

><p>As Blaine walks, he becomes more aware of his emotions. Sadness because of the loss of Santana, how much he misses Kurt, regret that he didn't take the spear, and the longer he walks, the more his anger builds up. It's then that Blaine realizes he is walking away from the aboveground. Towards the Cornucopia. He is no longer hiding, he is searching. Realizing that at some point, his anger will wear off, Blaine quickly pulls a leaf off the tunnel wall and drags it across harshly, leaving dark green marks in its path. Every so often he does the same thing, to ensure that when he is no longer angry, he can find his way back and make it to safety.<p>

Blaine is walking through a tunnel, seemingly larger than the others, when he hears something. A footstep echoing through the air. Blaine freezes in place.

_I don't want to do this._

He turns on his heel and begins to sprint towards the nearest turn, to get away from the other tribute, when he hears a voice call out behind him.

"Where you going, faggot?"

Blaine stops running immediately. He turns to face the boy. He's very tall, easily over six feet, with dark skin and a huge body. A smug grin is in place on his face, and stares at him, unable to move.

"You're not going home, you know," the boy continues, chuckling. "It ends right here. Now your little fairy boyfriend won't be able to see you ever again."

Blaine's blood boils at the mention of Kurt. "Don't you dare talk about him like that."

"Why not? You're never going to see him again, which is a good thing, because we don't need fags like you two in this nation anymore." The boy is grinning wildly, a mad glint in his eye. Blaine sees him take a step forward, and the hand not holding the flashlight reaches instinctively towards his pack, grasping the first handle he reaches.

"Once I'm done with you and I get out of here, I'm going to make sure I go to your girlfriend's house and get rid of him too. I'll tell him to say hi to you in hell!"

Blaine sees red. His grip on the handle tightens, and he pulls the knife out. The taller boy claps his hands together, laughing and dancing around. "You think you're gonna be able to hurt me! That's hilarious! A little princess like you has no chance."

Before Blaine even consciously knows what he is doing, he pulls the knife from his pack. He charges forward, and he hears the blood-curdling scream the other tribute makes as he plunges his knife- the serrated one, his brain notes for some reason- through the boy's throat. The boy falls to the ground with a loud thud, clutching at his throat as gurgling noises erupt from his mouth. Blaine knows he should stop, but his instincts take over and he straddles the boy, pushing the knife into his chest, hot blood spilling over Blaine's fingers. Blaine stares at the boy's face, watching as his eyes roll back into his head and the cannon goes off overhead. The sound of the cannon seems to shock Blaine back to reality, and he blinks. He climbs off the boy quickly, bringing his hand to his mouth in shock at what he had just done. What he was capable of. The flashlight crashes to the ground with a thud. A rusty smell hits Blaine's nostrils and he realizes there is still blood on his hands. He spins quickly, directing his head down in time to vomit. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, Blaine straightens himself and stares down at the limp body of the boy who'd insulted him and Kurt. Blaine, unable to react anymore, simply walks away, just in time to hear the whirring of the tunnel opening, and the body being moved out of the tunnel.

_I just killed someone._

* * *

><p>The line repeats through Blaine's mind, over and over as he walks. He doesn't cry, simply walks and breathes and functions and thinks, about everything and anything that his mind conjures. He is no longer seeking the other tributes; he is following his trail, back to the spot where Santana's blood still stains the ground. He traces the stains on the wall with his flashlight, trying to find his way back as best as he can. If Blaine can find the aboveground, he will have the upper hand in this game. He stops and snacks on some of the leftover crackers in his pack, taking a small sip of water. It's the last of the bottle, and Blaine realizes the discovery of the aboveground is a lot more imperative than he thought.<p>

As he walks, he notices the plants on the walls getting larger and more frequent, and he knows he is going in the right direction. As he rounds a corner he hears a cannon go off in the distance. Mentally, he ticks that person off of the list of people left. _Six more, _he thinks. _I hope it was Sebastian._ He picks up his pace, his mouth feeling dry and sticky. The minutes drag on, each step more tiring than the last. The longer he walks, the more his arms and legs and head just feel like dead weight to be carried. His eyes start to flutter, and he almost forgets what he is looking for. _Fresh air, Blaine, _he reminds himself, and forces his eyes back open, his legs to keep moving. He has to do a double take when he walks straight past the tunnel he was supposed to turn in, flashing his light on the wall to confirm the markings of green. He walks through the tunnel, the surroundings seeming strangely familiar in the monotonous grey and black tunnels of the entire arena. He's not entirely sure why he feels different in this tunnel, but he continues to walk. He figures it out quickly, however, when he sees the darkened shadows on the floor of the tunnel. The memories of what happened there flood his mind, and he closes his eyes.

_Breathe, Blaine. Keep going. Make Kurt proud. _

Subconsciously, Blaine knows that Kurt _will _be proud of him for finding the aboveground. Blaine is a thinker, and Kurt told him to utilize that in the arena. Blaine opens his eyes and walks forward. He remembers the feeling of being close that he felt the first time he was here, and tries to drag it to the surface again. He inhales deeply, and again, the air seems to be thinner than it is in the rest of the arena, and Blaine is _sure _he's close. He forces his body to move faster, just that little bit more. The tunnel begins to curve and Blaine breaks into a run. There are leaves and plants and weeds growing from every crevice in the tunnel and spreading over the full lengths of the walls, and the tunnel seems to grow lighter. Blaine is drawing breaths rapidly and his head is spinning but he doesn't stop, keeps going. Running becomes harder, and Blaine is pretty sure that the ground has slanted upward, and he is now running uphill. The tunnel straightens itself out again and he _sees it, _the light blinding and he has to hold his hand up to shield his weak eyes. The constant darkness of the tunnels played tricks on his eyes, making the sudden light of real day too bright to handle.

Blaine removes his hand once his eyes adjust and he squints, halting in place. _There it is. _There is a large circle of light coming from the end of the tunnel, seemingly in the air as the slope increases closer to the opening. Blaine stands in place for a second, in shock, before beginning to laugh. "I found it!" He says out loud. "_I found it!" _It is as though he is suddenly re-energized and Blaine sprints, the burn in his legs and throat ignored as he ascends the hill. He reaches the opening and runs through it, paying no attention to where he is second he sees the soft grass beneath his shoes, the blue sky above his head, he stops running. "Oh my god," he says, aware no one can hear him and not caring. Blaine looks up into the blue sky and laughs again, feeling happier and more free than he has since Kurt's name was picked from the bowl. He closes his eyes, the bright sun beating down on his eyelids and warming his skin. The smile stays on his face, even as he opens his eyes again, absorbing his surroundings. He is standing on a bare patch of green grass, with a forest to the left, and what seems like a river to the right. Straight ahead is more grass, going as far as Blaine can see. There's a light breeze running through his hair, caressing his skin and causing the leaves in the trees to rustle. From the forest he can hear birds chirping, and the rustling of small animals running through the shrubbery close to the ground. The sun is shining, bright, vibrant and _alive, _and Blaine cannot see a single cloud in the sky.

He walks slowly towards the water, dragging his fingers along the small trees and plants he passes on his way. When he reaches the water, he sees it is clear as glass, the water curling when it reaches the rocks that Blaine is standing on. Blaine dips his big toe into the water, eyes widening . He quickly strips off his clothes and jumps in, shivering pleasantly at the feel of something other than the grimy tunnel air on his skin. He does the best he can to wash himself, and lowers his lips to the pool to drink. He realizes he probably should be more cautious- this is the Hunger Games, after all, but he figures that not very many tributes are expected to find this place, they wouldn't kill off the few smart enough to actually come across it. Only when his fingers and toes begin to prune does Blaine emerge from the water, pulling his clothes back on and grabbing his pack in his hand. Just as he begins to walk back to the water, something falls onto the ground in front of him. Curious, Blaine picks it up, and realizes that it is a pot of some sort, with a tiny parachute attached to the top. _A gift from sponsors._ He supposes it's logical, as he believes he is the only one to be up here so far. Intelligence is a huge pull for many of the bigger sponsors in the Capitol. That, along with Blaine's charming personality and physical features, are sure to have landed him big among the sponsors. Blaine pulls the lid off the pot to find a loaf of bread and some cheese. Blaine grins wildly and smiles while spinning around, hoping to catch the attention of at least one camera, all though Blaine is pretty sure he is on every screen in Panem by this point. "Thank you," he says, and he hopes the cameras pick up on it.

Blaine carries the food, along with all his stuff, back to one of the larger rocks near the water and settles down, beginning to eat. He refills his water bottle and drinks from it again. He doesn't eat all of his food, wrapping it back up and placing it in his bag. He lays back on the rock and just _breathes, _the sun warming his face from above. He smiles slightly as his eyes flutter shut, and, just because he can, whispers an 'I love you' to the wind, picturing Kurt in his mind before he loses himself to his dreams.

* * *

><p><em>"Would you believe it, ladies and gentlemen! Blaine Anderson of District 8 has done it! He has made it to the outside arena! He is the first of the six tributes left to have gone up there at all, and the crowd is going wild." <em>

Kurt and Burt are watching the screen on the Justice Building, having gone to get some food from the market. Kurt is clutching his dad's arm tightly, his bags forgotten on the ground. Tears are falling from his eyes and the biggest smile graces his features as he watches Blaine on the screen, happy and smiling and alive. Blaine is safe and okay and he _found it, _just like Kurt knew he would. The second he'd heard Blaine's name come from the screen he'd forced his dad to stop, and they'd been standing there ever since. A crowd had gathered around, larger than usual, at the mention of Blaine. Kurt watches the screen as Blaine sits and relaxes to sleep. He knows that it is too good to be true, that Blaine won't be safe there for long, but seeing Blaine happy like that is good enough to put his fears aside.

"_I love you,_" On-screen Blaine whispers with a smile, and a new round of tears spring into Kurt's eyes. Caesar Flickerman is going wild, and the entire crowd joins him in an 'awww'.

_"Awww, isn't that just the cutest? He is dreaming about Kurt! Wherever you are, Kurt, I have to tell you- you are one lucky man."_

Kurt looks up at his dad and Burt smiles back, tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Everyone in District 8 seems to have spotted him and they all smile sadly at him. Kurt looks back to on-screen Blaine, who is sleeping soundly now, and appears to be mouthing Kurt's name. Kurt wipes his eyes.

"I love you, too."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Wow i am literally so sorry, feel free to kill me. This chapter was very hard to write, I just wasn't hit with inspiration for it at all. BUT, it's done now, and i'm about to start the next chapter, so woohoo! For those of you who asked, I do have a list of the tributes, and I'll post it on the next chapter. For now, enjoy!**

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><p>The day quickly passes into night as Blaine spends his time exploring the aboveground arena. He feels much better than he did when he first discovered the aboveground, as he used his free time to completely re-energize himself. He ate, he drank, he slept and he washed and now, Blaine is looking for food. Because he knows this is too easy. He knows there must be a twist. He knows he can't stay here forever. So he packs, and prepares himself for when the forest sets itself on fire, or a tornado lands mere feet from where he has set up camp. He finds a small rabbit and throws a knife at it, catching it in the skull and causing it to die on impact. He picks the rabbit up, tosses it in his bag and moves towards the water.<p>

Feeling fairly confident that no one else will be finding the aboveground any time soon, Blaine makes himself comfortable on the rock by the water again and falls into a light sleep, hoping that any surprises can hold off for one more day.

* * *

><p>Blaine is awoken a few hours later by the boom of the cannon firing. He shrugs it off, opting to go back to sleep, until another boom rattles the air just seconds later. Confused, Blaine stands up, packing up all of his things and pulling out his flashlight, the light he hadn't had to use for 2 days. Curious, Blaine moves closer to the opening that he came through, just in time to see one of the four tributes remaining in the tunnel run through. Blaine prepares himself to defend, however, it is unnecessary, as the other tribute doesn't even notice him. The tribute continues to run, right into the forest and away from the hole, a look of terror evident on his face. Blaine learns why shortly after, when a huge wave crashes onto the grass surrounding the opening, followed by another, both equally as terrifying. Blaine, even from his safe position far from the opening, shrinks back a bit in fear, as though the wave is going to hit him as well. The remnants of the wave are quickly absorbed into the grass, far too quickly for it to be natural. It hits Blaine then. The Gamemakers flooded the underground tunnels. They chased the other tributes to the aboveground; to where Blaine is.<p>

_Surprise. _

Blaine realizes that the two cannons that woke him up must've been the tributes who didn't make it out in time. Four tributes left. Once again, he finds himself hoping that one of the cannons was for Sebastian. Then again, maybe he doesn't. Maybe he wants to be the one to do it. Blaine shakes the thought off; he can worry about it later. For now, he needs to worry about finding a new spot to camp out, as the game has completely changed. Luckily, in his explorations earlier, he became quite familiar with the arena, as it is relatively small, and he knows where he can go to be safe.

Blaine doesn't want to kill anymore. Well, with one exception. He just hopes he can avoid the other tributes until they are all dead. Until he and Sebastian are left. That has been his strategy the entire time, and he is not going to change that anytime soon. So he moves, and hides in a particularly full area of the forest, one where even if someone was looking, they wouldn't be able to find him. He gets quite comfortable, while still making sure he can leave at a moment's notice if necessary. Even as he settles in, he sees someone run past his hiding area, hears the rustle and crunch the leaves and branches make as the unnamed feet pass over them. Blaine sighs. He is in for a long night.

* * *

><p>After falling into a troubled sleep, Blaine sighs, resigning himself to simply waking up, when the sun seems to have risen. He quickly eats some berries that he found- luckily, he knew his berries when he picked them, they were completely safe to eat- and stands up, preparing to move around the arena. Just as he stands up, however, he hears the tell-tale rustle that means someone is near, and he ducks for cover just in time, as none other than Sebastian Smythe himself walks through the clearing in front of Blaine's hiding spot. He looks a little worse for wear- clothes torn, hair mussed, face dirty, but what really gets Blaine is his eyes. Since the last time they saw each other, Sebastian's eyes have taken on a crazed appearance, slightly wider than they normally would be, and something brewing behind them that Blaine isn't sure he wants to know about. Blaine wonders how many deaths Sebastian is responsible for, and shudders at the thought.<p>

He reaches into his pack and grabs one of his more dangerous knives- long and curved, with a serrated edge- and prepares himself to attack when he sees, through the thicket blocking him from Sebastian's view, yet another tribute enter the clearing. Blaine can tell easily enough that a battle is about to ensue, and it is not going to be pretty. He makes sure that he is completely hidden from the view of the two tributes, and peers through a small gap in the leaves, for some reason intrigued by the possibility of a fight.

"Look who we have here," Sebastian says. He runs his tongue along his chapped lips and tries for his signature cocky grin, but the crazed eyes and manic look he's gained during the Games causes it to simply look frightening. "Some fresh meat."

"You don't scare me," the other tribute says, her voice soft but firm. Blaine wishes he knew her name. Her long blond hair is tangled, falling down her back and ending in a soft curl. Blaine changes his angle slightly to catch a glimpse of the girl's face, just as she turns her body slightly, maneuvering herself into a fighting position. From this angle, Blaine can see that she is quite beautiful. For some reason, he finds himself wondering if she has a family back home, a boyfriend or a girlfriend. If she has someone she needs to get back to. Or if she's like Santana; not caring, just going with the flow and hoping to once again be reunited with the person who stole her heart. He continues thinking about this girl until Sebastian speaks up again, causing Blaine to shake his head and focus on what is playing out in front of him.

"Well, Quinny, we're going to have to change that, aren't we?" Sebastian steps closer to the girl.

"_Don't _call me that." The girl is seething, her eyes narrowed into slits. "My name is Quinn."

"In a few seconds, dear Quinny, it won't matter anymore, will it?" Sebastian asks, yet again moving closer to where the girl- _Quinn_, Blaine's mind supplies- is standing. He raises the arm wielding a large spear and lunges at her, just as she pulls out her bow. She uses the arm of the bow to defend herself from Sebastian's attack, and reaches quickly behind her to grab a knife. She throws the knife, clipping Sebastian's shoulder just before he manages to dodge it. The knife hits a tree, the blade digging into the harsh bark and keeping it suspended. It's a throw that only one person Blaine knew could ever make.

It is then that Blaine realizes why he took such a large interest in this girl's fate. He reminds him of someone. _Santana. _Her and Santana are so different, yet, strangely, so much alike. Blaine thinks about how the two would have gotten along, had they met outside of the Games. Like fire and ice, somehow existing alongside each other, balancing each other out. _They would've made a good pair._

Sebastian stands back up, slightly in shock at the fight still in Quinn. She clearly isn't giving up as he had expected her to. Quinn thinks that Sebastian is distracted enough by her throw to reach behind her to grab an arrow, but Blaine sees the mistake as soon as she makes it. However, it is too late, and Sebastian tries again with his spear. He runs forward and Quinn, her arms behind her, is in no position to defend herself. The spear sinks itself home with an ear-piercing scream, and Quinn falls to the ground. The spear seems to have gone deep enough in the right spot to kill her almost instantly, and Sebastian smiles at the girl laying on the ground, before running off in the direction he came from. Surely enough, not even minutes later, Blaine hears the cannon go off in the air, signifying Quinn's death. He lowers his head, closing his eyes for a second, before opening them back up and deciding to move on. After all, there is only three left, and things are about to get messy.

He hopes that if there is an afterlife, Santana and Quinn will find each other in it. He hopes that Santana has already found Brittany, the love of her life. He hopes that the three will become the best of friends.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day is fairly uneventful for Blaine, but he keeps his eyes open, because it can't be that easy. There is only three tributes left in the arena, and the game is almost over. Instead, he waits, preparing himself for whatever horror the Gamemakers have in store for them next. The whole afternoon passes, the sun dropping steadily in the sky, a solid in a world of uncertainties. Blaine knows that each morning, when he wakes up, the sun will be on one side of the earth, present, warm, alive, and every night, the sun will still be there, descending below his line of view, lighting up the world for someone else. It's always there. The uncertainty, however, is whether he will be.<p>

It's kind of nice, Blaine thinks, to have something steady to hold onto, when all other variables flip his world on a daily basis. For weeks, he's been torn away from everything he's ever known and loved, the only thing he has left of his old life being the sun.

Blaine hopes he gets to see it another day. He hopes, with everything he has, that he will get to see it from his favourite place in the meadow down their road, with Kurt in his arms as they smile happily and kiss lazily and forget about all the other problems they might have. Those memories are his favourite, from back home. That time when Kurt snuck over to his house in the middle of the night, helped him climb out the window and together they ran, hand in hand to their meadow, and just laid there, watching the stars in the sky. And yes, they made love, and yes, Blaine was extremely tired the next day when his mother woke him up but it was worth it, it was so, so worth it, to be able to spend just a little more time with the boy he loved.

Blaine is just about to get up to go find some more food and to keep himself moving when he hears it.

Another cannon.

He whips his head around wildly, scanning the area to see if the kill happened near him. Sure enough, not 100 metres away from him, he sees the hovercraft descending into the trees, and a shadowed figure running behind it and away from Blaine. A ray of sunlight paints over the figure's face, and highlights his smile.

His over-confident, cocky smile.

Blaine acts before he thinks, running in the direction of Sebastian Smythe, because he knows if he doesn't do that, Sebastian is going to run for him. And they have some unfinished business to tend to.

Just one more kill.

Just one more kill until Blaine can go home.

* * *

><p>Kurt has to force himself to hold back his cheer when the tribute from District 3- Sam, he thinks his name is- is killed, leaving only Sebastian and Blaine in the arena.<p>

"Dad!" He yells, gripping his father's arm tightly. "Dad! Blaine can win! He's going to come home!" Before Kurt knows it, he's crying, tears slipping steadily down his cheeks, running over his broad smile, the salty taste hitting his lips. He buries his face in his father's arm, unable to react anymore. The Andersons- who have been returning to their home every day since the beginning of the Games- are hugging as well, from their place on the couch. Hearing all the commotion, Carole enters the room, bearing a tray of bread and cheese which ends up on the ground when she sees the screen. Not seconds later, Finn is bursting through the door with a huge grin on his face, his arms spread wide.

"Dude!" He shouts at Kurt, who runs over to the embrace, "He's gonna be okay! Blaine can _totally _kick that Sebastian guy's ass!" The entire group laughs and hugs and smiles, wiping tears from each other's faces and throwing fists into the air. It continues on until a loud pounding at the door interrupts their celebrations. Confused, Burt walks over to the door, opening it to find two Peacekeepers standing in front of him.

"We are here for Kurt Hummel," one of them announces in a monotonous voice, pushing past Burt and into their home. Kurt looks up from his spot next to Mrs. Anderson and Carole, where they are all holding hands and wiping their tears.

"You aren't taking my son anywhere," Burt replies coldly, stepping in front of the two Peacekeepers. The second one pushes him out of the way and they walk towards Kurt, who is cowering back into the couch.

"Do not lay a hand on him!" Comes Mr. Anderson's voice, who helps Burt gain his balance before the both stand in front of the Peacekeepers, blocking their path to Kurt. They Peacekeepers shove at both of them, who push them back, and Kurt can tell that the four men are about to get in a fight.

"Wait! Wait!" Carole screams, standing up from the couch. "Stop!" To Kurt's surprise, the four separate, looking at Carole curiously, Burt and Mr. Anderson still fuming. "What do you need Kurt for?"

"Capitol's orders," one of them answers gruffly, and it hits Kurt then that this is no coincidence. There has been so much media attention on him and Blaine, and now the Capitol is taking him from his home?

"I'll go," he answers calmly, although inside he is falling apart. "I'll go."

"Kurt, buddy-" Burt starts, but Kurt cuts him off.

"No, dad, I need to go." His voice is slightly shaky but he ignores it. "Go ahead, take me."

Slightly surprised at the turn of events, the two Peacekeepers stalk forward in their large white suits, grabbing Kurt by the arms and leading him towards the door. He feels the tears fall down his face, his fear and worry and panic making themselves known. His whole body is shaking, and he knows he is pale, but he allows the men to take him anyways, with the sounds of Burt yelling in the background and Carole crying softly. He lifts his head and turns it quickly, before he is forced into the truck the men had brought. "I love you!" he shouts, the tears falling quickly and refusing to stop. The men put him into the truck, although luckily they do not bind him, for which Kurt is grateful.

"Goodbye," he whispers, although no one can hear him.

* * *

><p><em>Blaine keeps running, going in the direction he thinks he saw Sebastian last. He turns a corner when all of a sudden he hits something solid. He straightens up, and when he looks to see what he ran into, he almost throws up. <em>

"_Kurt?" he says, disbelieving. _

"_Hi," Kurt answers back, looking down at his feet. He looks slightly beaten, his face and arms dirty and his hair disheveled, but it is him, he's there and real and just like Blaine remembers him. Before Blaine can even think, he grabs Kurt's face and kisses him hard, pouring everything he has into the kiss. Their tears mingle with the kiss but neither of them care, and it is absolutely perfect._

_Until it's not. _

_Blaine pulls back abruptly, looking around him. This isn't a dream. The Games aren't over. He's still in the arena, and apparently, Kurt is as well. He realizes what has happened then. _

_They threw Kurt in as bait. _

"_Kurt, Kurt what are you doing here?" he asks frantically, hoping beyond all belief that he is wrong, that he is so, so wrong. _

"_I-I don't know," Kurt answers. "They just took me and they-they brought me into the Capitol and then everything was black and then when I woke up, I was here."_

_Blaine looks around him again, before looking at Kurt. "Oh my god," he says. His face begins to fall, into an expression of absolute horror. "Why?" he shouts, the word ripping itself out of his chest in a sob. "Kurt! You need to get out of here! You need to make yourself safe!" _

"_Blaine, I don't understand what you're saying, am- am I in the Games?" Kurt asked, astonishment and bewilderment plain in his voice. _

_Blaine yells, crying like he never has before. "Kurt, you need to kill me. Right now. They'll let you go home if you do it. Please, Kurt, just do it! KILL ME!" Blaine is screaming, nothing making sense in his mind anymore and why, why would they do this, they've never done anything like this before, how could they, how dare they-"_

"_Blaine, no! I'm not going to kill you! I won't do it!" Kurt's becoming hysteric as well, realizing what has just happened. _

"_Kurt! You need to see sense! You need to do it or they'll kill us both!" _

"_Then you kill me! I'm just an obstacle, just a part of the game! You're a tribute, you're the one who's supposed to be fighting!" _

_Blaine acts the only way he knows how, lunging at Kurt and kissing him with the most passion he can muster. It's rough, and hard, and his lips move frantically, desperately, his mind spinning. When he pulls back, they are both winded, and Blaine still has Kurt's face in his hands. _

"_Kurt, you need to do it, to make you safe again. I need to keep you safe." All of a sudden, Kurt goes limp in his hands, his eyes widening and seeming as though the life is being sucked out of them. A puff of air escapes Kurt's lips and Blaine looks at him, confused by what is going on until he looks down and sees it. _

_A large spear, the point of it sticking out of Kurt's abdomen, the blood spreading through his shirt and dripping off the point of the spear. Kurt sags in Blaine's arms, and Blaine catches him, begging for him to be okay. He's beyond hysterics, screaming and crying and thrashing, shaking Kurt as hard as he can manage. Blaine sinks to his knees, cradling Kurt's limp head in his lap. He brushes the strands of hair from Kurt's face, hoping to see some life in his beautiful blue-green eyes. He sees none, but he tries desperately to bring it back, using everything that he knows. It's no use, and Blaine screams at the sky, asking why, why, why Kurt, why not him, why his beautiful Kurt? _

_Blaine hears a rustle of leaves behind him and looks up to see a cocky grin on a handsome, crazed face_


	10. Chapter 10

**HAHAHAHA I TOLD YOU I WOULD BE QUICK! also a lot of people were ~confused~ by the italics and stuff, which i knew would happen, so i got to work and spit out this little gem in one day! woohoo! hope you enjoy!  
>Also definitely warnings for violence in this chapter. <strong>

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><p><strong><strong>Blaine opens his eyes, his chest heaving. He looks around him wildly, before realizing that _it was just a dream. _He closes his eyes and lays his head back, sighing. It was just a dream. Kurt isn't in the arena, never was. It's just Blaine and Sebastian now. Blaine spent most of the day before chasing after Sebastian, but couldn't get to him in time and figured that he should probably get some more sleep so he could put all of his energy towards getting himself back to Kurt. He's never been more happy that something was a dream. He reaches up to brush a hand over his face and is met with wet cheeks. Great, he was crying in his sleep too. He scrubs a hand over his face, trying to rid himself of the tears. He sits up, taking another deep breath. That dream seemed so _real. _But the Capitol would never take Kurt, let alone throw him into the _Games. _Blaine shakes his head and laughs at his mind's conjured nightmare, before standing up to stretch his legs. He quickly reaches into his pack and grabs something to eat, although he isn't even entirely sure what it is, as he doesn't even taste it. He is too busy focusing on constructing a game plan to find and kill Sebastian. Blaine never thought, in his whole life, he would ever have to come up with a game plan to kill someone, but things change, situations change and Blaine ended up in the Hunger Games with an asshole tribute from District 4.

Blaine stands up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stretches his stiff joints and is rewarded with the satisfying soft _pop! _his joints make. He grabs his pack and pulls, once again, the best knife he has from his collection- the long blade with the serrated edge. He quickly palms the knife, closing his eyes for a second to regain his composure. He then zips his bag back up and steps over the bush he was sleeping behind. He walks around the forest, sticking to the outside of the trees; he doesn't want any surprises from the sides. If he is going to face off with Sebastian, it is going to be face-to-face. Blaine walks the entire day, getting frustrated with his inability to find Sebastian in the forest. He comes across another body of water, so he refills his and what used to be Santana's bottle, almost drinking through an entire one in one large gulp. The sun is beating down on his skin, making him hot and sweaty and exhausted. But he doesn't give up, he continues to walk, hoping beyond hope that he will run into Sebastian soon. After the sun has dropped to just above the horizon, Blaine decides to take a quick break, sitting on a fallen tree and pulling some berries from his bag. He really isn't in the mood for anything else, instead only eating for something to do. He sips some more water, resting his elbows on his knees and leaning his face into his hands.

It's then when he hears it.

A soft rustle, a few cracking branches, and Blaine looks up, squinting at the trees where the noise came from. He stands, preparing himself for an attack, when all of a sudden the trees separate. But it's not Sebastian who runs through. It's a flock of birds, but Blaine can tell they are no ordinary birds. They are humongous, much larger than any other bird Blaine has seen in this arena. They are completely black, their wings all sharp angles and cuts, and the beak of the birds silver. The birds' talons are also silver, the sun glinting off of them and reflecting onto a nearby tree. Blaine's never seen this kind of bird before, but knows instantly that it is a creation of the Capitol, and that this is what he was waiting for. The birds hover in the air for a moment before flying towards Blaine, swarming all around him. He runs, deeper towards the centre of the forest and away from the outside. The birds chase him, a couple feathers brushing against Blaine's body and he feels searing pain in the places the birds touch. He runs faster, drawing breath in laborious pants and hoping, praying that this isn't the end of him. The birds are squawking, but their cries sounds more to Blaine like the blades of knives being run against one another, grinding and squeaking and making Blaine shiver. As he runs, one of the birds lands their beak in Blaine's shoulder and he collapses it inwards with a cry. Unbearable pain runs through his whole left arm, like his whole arm is attached to a livewire, electricity running through it and burning every nerve. Before he knows it, his arm goes limp at his side. Panicking, Blaine tries to lift his arm, but to no avail. It's gone completely numb. He runs, right until he reaches a light patch in the forest, where Blaine knows to be a large field, and sure enough, as he breaches the barrier of the field, the birds curve off, squawking and shrieking as they fly back into the forest. The second they leave, Blaine looks over his shoulder, trying to inspect the damage the bird's beak caused him. He sees it, a _hole _in his shoulder, surrounded by dark blood. He feels around the wound with his right hand and winces, although it's not as painful as a wound of that magnitude probably should be. He smacks his left arm with his other hand, and feels no pain, the sting of the slap gone to his mind.

Blaine wants to continue tending to his wounds and trying to bring the feeling and motion back to his arm, but he can't, because all of a sudden, another figure comes running into the opening in the forest, the same flock of birds that had attacked Blaine, chasing this figure as well. Blaine stops what he is doing and watches, as Sebastian Smythe is chased in by the mutts, sweaty and grimy and crazed, swatting his hands behind them to fend them off. The moment he crosses the barrier, the birds fly off, leaving Sebastian and Blaine alone in the clearing. Despite Blaine's mind shouting at his body to _move, fight, attack_, he remains still, staring at Sebastian the way Sebastian is staring back at him.

This is it.

* * *

><p>Kurt is sitting in a lavish room, simple yet tasteful. He should be calm. He should be relaxed. The Peacekeepers told him his purpose for coming, once they'd safely reached the Capitol. And yet, Kurt is having trouble breathing, his face pale and his muscles taut as he watches the screen. Blaine and Sebastian were just chased into the clearing in the middle of the forest by a flock of some kind of muttations- <em>electrowings, <em>Caesar Flickerman had called them. Blaine seemdc to be in serious pain while Sebastian had somehow managed to escape unscathed. The two were currently just staring at each other, Blaine obviously trying to hide his pain.

"Come on, Blaine, please be okay, you're okay, come on!" Kurt whispers, tears in the corner of his eyes. "Just beat him, Blaine, please, just please come home."

Kurt sees the look in Blaine's eyes as the camera zooms onto his face, sees the smirk on Sebastian's face as he takes in his surroundings, and Kurt can't help but think:

_This is it. _

* * *

><p>Blaine takes in the look on Sebastian's face, and he knows that this isn't just going to be a simple, quick fight. He's smirking as he eyes Blaine, his eyes roaming up and down Blaine's body, taking him in.<p>

"How's the arm, pretty boy?" Sebastian asks conversationally, stepping closer to Blaine.

"Never been better," Blaine bites back, although it's a complete lie. Blaine's also a natural left hand, so this fight is going to be ten times harder than it would have been before those damn birds attacked him. Realizing this, he looks down quickly and closes his eyes in relief when he sees that the knife is still, in fact, in his hand. He snatches it quickly with his right hand, the knife feeling foreign in his palm, but Blaine shakes his head and throws the thought aside.

"I haven't seen you so long, how have you been doing? You know, after I slaughtered that bitch who you seemed to be so attracted to. Shame. I hope your little boy is watching this, so that he at least knows that you never _really _loved him, he was just a quick fuck until you could get your hands on something better, who you just so happened to meet on the train ride to your death," Sebastian says absently, although his smirk gives his intentions away. Blaine's blood boils underneath his skin, and the urge to fight without restrictions is nearly overwhelming, but he restrains himself. _This is just what he wants. _

"I know what you're doing," Blaine replies. "And it's not going to work. You're right, I am angry at you for killing Santana like that, for betraying our trust-"

"If I remember correctly, Anderson, I do believe _you _were the one to kill her," Sebastian interrupts, and Blaine stutters at the reminder before continuing on.

"-But she wanted it to happen. Maybe not that way, but she did. And Kurt knows I love him, so really, you lost either way, Smythe." Blaine tries to smile as smugly as Sebastian is, but it's a challenge. Even though he knows Sebastian is just trying to play with him, the words still cut deep, and they hurt more than any genetically-produce bird or any knife ever could.

"Well, I suppose it's rather unfortunate that he's never going to see you again, for you to remind him, isn't it?" Sebastian asks in a sickly-sweet voice, and it's in that moment that Blaine decides that _he has had enough. _

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Smythe," Blaine says with narrowed eyes before lunging forward, running at Sebastian with his knife held in the air. Sebastian is quick to respond, however, pulling a small dagger from behind his back and wielding it in front of himself. The two knives cling together, the sound echoing through the clearing and indicating the beginning of a ferocious battle. The two swing their knives, using them almost as swords as they fight. Suddenly, Blaine feels a crippling pain in his left knee and realizes that Sebastian kicked him, his boot digging hard into Blaine's leg. Blaine's knee buckles, basically just as useless as his arm. He ignores the pain, instead opting to swipe at Sebastian again with his knife. The knife catches Sebastian's side, slicing through the clothing and flesh there before Blaine pulls it back. Sebastian cries out, clutching his side in pain, before looking at Blaine with a manic smile.

"I'm not going down that easily, Blainey," Sebastian taunts, straightening up just in time for Blaine to curl his fists and smash them into Sebastian's face. Sebastian's neck bends back from the force, and he clutches his face with both hands, the blood seeping through his grasp and running over his mouth. Blaine watches in disgust as Sebastian licks over his lips, the blood from his nose getting caught on Sebastian's tongue and being pulled into his mouth, and Sebastian's lips curve up into a deranged smile. "Nice punch, sweetie, down for round two?"

Blaine's leg is throbbing by now, but he pushes the pain to the back of his mind, as Sebastian is coming at him with his dagger, blood pouring from his nose and side. Blaine holds the knife above his head, and runs forward as quick as he can, his leg screaming in protest. Sebastian beats him, however, and his dagger glides across Blaine's exposed left arm. The metal hitting his skin and nerves seems to awaken something in Blaine's arm and suddenly, his arm feels like it's on fire. It's like his arm is being torn apart, bit by bit, nerve by nerve, and he falls to the ground, as the pain spreads from his arm to his shoulder and parts of his back and chest. He writhes on the ground, the pain overwhelming him and causing him to see pinpricks of white in front of his eyes. Blaine turns his head and vomits onto the grass, praying for Sebastian to stab him and finish him off because this is something he cannot handle, it's too much, it's _too much-_

"Painful, isn't it?" Sebastian asks, gripping Blaine's chin with his fingers and forcing him to look at him. Sebastian is kneeling over Blaine, his face incredibly close. "Electrowings are probably one of the worst creations of the Capitol. Silly little birds, really, but with incredible capabilities. You really should have known about them; how their talons and beaks act as conductors, feeding electricity into the body where it stays, completely dead, all thanks to the venom that they release into your system. You think I didn't notice when I saw you? Your arm looked as though it were about to fall off." Sebastian laughs, blood from his nose dripping and hitting Blaine's face, and he tries to concentrate on what Sebastian is saying, but the pain is causing his mind to fall in and out of focus. "And here's the best part about those pesky little birds- the second the wound is touched by metal, it feels as though you are quite literally being electrocuted, but much, much worse. Of course, I wouldn't know, it's never happened to me before, but I think I can tell, all thanks to you."

The pain in Blaine's arm refuses to go away, or dim or fade. If anything, it seems to be worsening, as it spreads even further through his body. His mind flutters, and he's no longer sure what's real and what isn't, until an image of Kurt appears in front of his eyes and it's almost as if he's _right there, _telling him to _fight, Blaine, fight, for me, you can do this, please, for me. _And that's the deciding factor for Blaine. He forces his right arm to move, the only thing that keeps him going is Kurt's voice, soothing and firm in his ear, encouraging him. Sebastian continues to talk, his grip on Blaine's chin still tight. Blaine's arm moves shakily but steadily, until it's directly over Sebastian's back and then with a swift swipe downwards it's over, it's all over, and Sebastian's eyes widen almost comically as he looks at Blaine, the long blade of the knife cutting through flesh and muscle and tendon and hitting Sebastian directly in the heart. Sebastian lets out one more puff of air before collapsing sideways, the handle of the knife sticking out of his back.

Just like that, the pain in Blaine's arm is obvious again, overtaking him completely and his vision goes white, and just before he loses everything completely he hears, almost like it's being whispered into his ears-

"_Ladies and gentlemen, the victor of the 63rd Hunger Games!"_

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><p><strong><em>Well, who woulda thunk it! But it would really suck if the winner died anyways, wouldn't it? Well, i suppose you're just going to have to wait until the next chapter to find out what happens to him! And to kurt, for that matter, MWUAHAHAHAHAH!<em>**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm a terrible human, I know. But I'm in a writing mood, so maybe I'll get some more done soon! yay! enjoy!**

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><p>When Blaine opens his eyes, he is surrounded by white.<p>

_I'm dead, _he thinks immediately. He tries to sit up, using his arms to push himself up. It's exactly then that he realizes he's _not _dead, as a stinging pain thrums through his left arm before fading. He looks down at his arm, which is a strange pinkish colour, with- _is that silver?- _lines branching out on his arm. Experimentally, he lifts it, twisting it around to see if it's functional. It is, but each movement, each tightening of skin and nerves causes that same pain to run through his arm. He winces, and drops his arm back down to the bed. He looks down at his left knee, which seems to be fully repaired. No swelling, no bruise, not even a small scratch. Confused, Blaine lies back down, hoping that maybe some more sleep will help him become more oriented, as none of this makes sense to him. Just as he is about to close his eyes, however, the sounds of a door opening and closing rings in his ears. He looks over to where the sound came from- _how did I not notice the door, _he asks himself- just in time to see the large figure of none other than Shannon Bieste walk through the door.

"Hey, kid! Nice to see you're awake! How ya feeling?" She asks him quietly, sitting gingerly on the corner of his bed.

"Okay," Blaine replies, brow furrowed. "My arm still hurts, though. And what are these lines?" He uses his right hand to lift the dead weight of his left arm, and grunts with the effort.

Bieste looks at his arm, inspecting it slightly. "Yeah, those'd be the side effects of the electrowings. They've got a nasty attack. You're lucky you made it out alive. It should be gone soon, though, so don't you worry, pumpkin." Bieste looks down at Blaine with a soft smile.

"Wait," Blaine says, the realization hitting him like a punch to the chest. "I'm alive." He pauses, staring into Bieste's eyes as his own widen. "I'm alive! I won! Bieste, I won!" There are tears in his eyes, and he feels the biggest grin fall into place on his mouth. "I can go home now! Please let me go home now, please," he begs, looking at Bieste with wide eyes. _Home to Kurt._

"I'm sorry, kid," she says with a sad smile, looking genuinely sorry. "But you can't go home yet. You've still got some business to tend to."

"But... I want to see Kurt," Blaine says, casting his eyes down as his tears start to fall.

"Oh, come here," Bieste says, shuffling towards where Blaine is laying to envelop him in a hug. Her movements jostle his sore arm, but he ignores the pain. He rests his head on her shoulder and he thinks he is about to fall asleep, but then the reality of what is happening and what had happened, what he _lived through_, he cries. He cries harder than he can ever remember crying, letting out all the emotions that he'd been holding in for weeks, since the second Kurt's name was pulled from the bowl. Memories of Santana and the tunnels and Sebastian and _blood _flash through his mind and he can't control himself. "Shh, it's okay, you're okay, it's gonna be okay," Bieste reassures him, running a soothing hand across his back. It's the kind of human contact Blaine hasn't had since before he left for the Games, and he craves it, even as he clutches to Bieste's back probably hard enough to bruise, and as hard as one can with only one arm. "It's over now, you're safe, it's all over now." She strokes his hair, holding him there for who knows how long, seconds, minutes, hours, Blaine doesn't really know, all he knows is that if it weren't for Bieste holding him together in this moment, he would be in pieces on the floor by now. And for that, he is thankful.

* * *

><p>The rest of the day passes in a blur of food and clothes and doctors and people and then Blaine sleeps, his dreams riddled with more nightmares. He wakes up in the morning to find he is back in his own room in the Capitol building, no longer in the white room. He moves his arm again, finding with satisfaction that the pain in his arm is slowly but surely fading. The silver lines are still there, and when he asks Bieste about it later that morning, she tells him that those will always be there, but the pain will fade completely by the end of the week. Over breakfast, Emma fills him in on the schedule for the day, and although Blaine is starving, he does not eat much. Every minute he is in the room, it hits him, that he is safe, and he will be going home to Kurt, that this isn't all just a dream.<p>

"-And then at 4 o clock we have the Victor's Ceremony, so we will be meeting with David again so he can make you look handsome and charming, and maybe he can do something about that arm..." Emma prattles on, and Blaine just stares down at his food.

As if on cue, the sound of the elevator opening hits his ears and none other than David himself steps out of the elevator, a broad grin on his face. "Blaine, how you doing?" He says, wrapping his arms around Blaine the second he stands from his chair. "It's great to see you back."

"I'm glad to be back," Blaine answers automatically, feeling better already. He'd always liked David.

"Alright, what do you have planned for him today?" he asks, winking at Blaine before addressing Emma.

"I just went through this! Does nobody pay attention?" Emma complains, but Blaine can see the gleam in her eyes at the opportunity to speak once more. She repeats the schedule to David, who nods thoughtfully.

"Okay, so, Ceremonies, interview, sleep, train?" He repeats, causing Emma to frown at his ten-second summary of her speech.

"I-yes, that's it."

"Perfect," David answers with a grin. He sits down and helps himself to breakfast, before turning to Blaine.

"You excited to go home?" he asks conversationally, before spearing a slice of tomato with his fork.

"More than you can imagine," Blaine answers in reply. He thinks of Kurt, his home, his family and friends, Kurt, and decides that yes, he is very excited to go back.

"Am I ever going to get a chance to meet your Kurt?" David asks with a soft smile.

"Only if you're lucky," Blaine says. They both chuckle and conversation flows easily from then on, although if Blaine is honest, he's not exactly focusing on what David is saying, and his thoughts are still centered around Kurt. One glance at David and he realizes that David has noticed as well, if his smirk is anything to go by.

"You'll see him soon," David promises, and Blaine smiles back, hugging David quickly before they head to Blaine's room to begin preparations.

* * *

><p>The cheer from the crowd when Blaine walks onto the stage is near-deafening. After shaking hands with the President, and being presented with a crown, along with his other earnings as a Victor, he is directed to sit in the only empty chair left on the stage. His left arm is held in a sling, and feels like it is constantly buzzing in that position. But it's better than having it dangle on his side, potentially being jostled every time he moves. He hopes the sling makes him look tough and not ridiculous, like he feels. The next few hours are spent re-watching the highlights of the Games, and Blaine tries as hard as he can to keep his eyes on the screen, but more than once he has to look away as the memories creep back into the forefront of his mind. Finally, <em>finally, <em>it's over, and it's time for his interview with Caesar. Caesar walks on stage, a charming grin on his face as he waves and blows kisses at the audience, and takes the chair that had just been placed next to Blaine.

"Hello, Blaine, and welcome back!" Caesar begins, taking Blaine's right hand firmly between his own. "What a pleasure! I am so glad I get to see you again."

"Believe me, Caesar, I'm glad I get to see you again, as well." This brings a laugh from the audience, and Blaine smiles, the charming smile that he'd spent his whole life perfecting.

"First things first, how is your arm?" Caesar asks, glancing at Blaine's sling. "That was a horrid thing to watch, and it did not look comfortable.

"Well, Caesar, for lack of better words, it... hurts like hell," Blaine says with a small laugh. He pushes off the sling and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt with his good hand, exposing the pink and silver flesh. The whole audience, along with Caesar, gasps at the sight of it, and Blaine is fairly certain that every camera is zoomed onto the image of his mangled limb. Blushing, he rolls his sleeve back down and pulls his sling back into place, glancing up at Caesar once more.

"Can you tell us what that felt like?" Caesar asks curiously.

Blaine thinks for a minute, licking his lips. "It felt like... like every nerve in my arm was being burned, like electric shocks were shooting through my arm, nonstop. It hurt more than anything I've had to deal with before, and boy am I thankful for the lovely doctors here in the Capitol who've at least made the pain manageable."

"Is that why you fainted, then?" Caesar asks. "We here all thought it was from the overwhelming feelings, but with that explanation, your unconsciousness makes much more sense."

"Yes, I believe that's what it was," Blaine confirms. "It was horrible."

"Mmm." Was all Caesar had to say. "What can you tell us about the Games?" Caesar says next, leaning forward in his seat, as though Blaine is about to share a secret with him.

"I can tell you that it was... terrifying," Blaine admits, scratching the back of his neck, "and that a lot of people changed in there."

"We saw that very clearly on the screen. What can you tell us about your training score? Now that the Games are over, surely you can spill your secret!" Caesar begs, and Blaine smiles.

"That's a secret I'll never share. All I can say is that I definitely... surprised them."

"Ahh, the ever-elusive Blaine Anderson, ladies and gentlemen!" Caesar says with a pout, and Blaine laughs along with the audience.

"My greatest apologies," he says with a smile.

"Yes, yes, of course," he answers, quirking an eyebrow at Blaine, and the audience laughs once more. Suddenly, Caesar grasps Blaine's hand, and he can see genuine concern in Caesar's eyes, worrying him and he braces himself for the difficult question that's clearly about to come.

"Now, Blaine... you realize you've left the Games with one of the lowest kill counts in the history of the Hunger Games?"

Blaine nods. "Two is a pretty low number," he agrees.

Caesar looks torn, choosing his words carefully before continuing to speak. "I believe you have miscounted, Blaine, as your official tally is... three."

"Three?" Blaine asks, confused. "I didn't kill three people, that's preposterous." Blaine tries to block the memories as they come, as this is something he is expected to talk about, but they come anyways, harsh and painful and cold. "There was Sebastian, at the end, and that jerk, and..." Blaine's face blanches as he realizes who exactly the third was.

"Santana," Caesar finishes for him, looking truly pained at having to bring that up.

"S-Santana?" Blaine stutters. "They counted her? But I didn't- it wasn't- she was going to die anyways! It was that scum Sebastian's fault, not mine!" Blaine's hands clench up in anger, and he reminds himself to calm down, to breathe, that everyone in the nation is watching him, but he just can't.

"I know, Blaine, I think we all agree with you." A murmur from the audience supports Caesar's statement.

"That's unbelievable," Blaine says in slight anger, and Caesar nods his head at him before deciding to move onto lighter topics. Blaine decides that he really likes Caesar.

"Let's discuss something else, Blaine!" Caesar exclaims, a smile suddenly on his face again. "You are headed home, isn't that exciting?"

"Very," Blaine agrees, breathing and calming himself down. _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt_, is all that runs through his mind.

"And you finally get to see your boyfriend again, correct?"

"Yes," Blaine confirms, smiling despite himself. "He was the one that pulled me through all of this. Without him waiting for me back home, I probably wouldn't have made it this far."

"Oh, pish posh, you're a wonderful tribute, Blaine!" Caesar compliments, but Blaine doesn't say thank you. After all, what kind of compliment is it to be told that you're a wonderful killer?

"But I'm sure at some point, I would've just given in, and someone else might have been sitting in this chair, if it weren't for Kurt pulling me through. I can't wait to see him again, it's all I've been thinking about."

Caesar sits back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. "Well, Blaine, we here in the Capitol aren't _completely_ heartless-" _that's what you think, _Blaine thinks bitterly "-so we have a surprise for you!"

Blaine looks at Caesar, confused. Emma never mentioned this. "Oh?"

Caesar's smile gets even wider, and Blaine can tell that at least some of it is genuine emotion. "Yes, indeed! Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, I present to you-"

Caesar snaps his fingers, and Blaine's heart stops beating in his chest, the entire world slowing around him. His breath gets caught in his throat and he can't breathe, can't move, can't do anything, his thoughts have all stopped and instead focused on this moment, this earth-shattering moment where all Blaine can see is one thing. One beautiful, smiling, teary-eyed thing.

"-Kurt Hummel!"


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: I am a horrible person**

**but i've finally updated so yay!**

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><p>There he is, glowing, crying, smiling- his Kurt. Blaine's own mind couldn't do Kurt justice, and he looks absolutely flawless. Maybe slightly worn down, but Blaine doubts that he is faring much better anyways. Completely ignoring everything Caesar is saying, Blaine sprints across the stage, wrapping his arms around Kurt and kissing every part of him he can reach, injured arm forgotten.<p>

"You're here, oh my god, you're here, Kurt, I love you, I love you-" Blaine is crying and he knows he doesn't make sense, but he doesn't care. He feels Kurt's tears hitting his shoulder as Kurt kisses his neck, and then Blaine pulls back long enough to look into Kurt's eyes- his beautiful, blue-green eyes, so deep and full of stories. They have always been Blaine's favourite part of Kurt, and he smiles so widely his cheeks start to hurt. He doesn't have time to say anything, however, because Kurt crushes his lips against Blaine's, and all Blaine can think about at that first touch of lips is _home. _It all feels so right; Kurt's lips are soft against his, but firm and demanding, and the rational part of Blaine's mind is trying to remind him that they are being broadcasted across the entirety of Panam, they should probably stop, but he can't help himself.

"I missed you so much," Kurt says against Blaine's lips, his tears mingling with Blaine's own against Blaine's cheek. The sound of Kurt's voice is music to Blaine's ears, a beautiful melody he thought he'd never get the chance to hear again. "I was so scared. Don't you ever do something stupid like that for me again. I love you so much."

"I love you, too," Blaine says, before pulling back to smile at Kurt again. His arms are still around Kurt's waist and he moves them to takes Kurt's hands instead, wincing when the pain in his arm makes itself known. "I can't believe you're here."

"Believe me, I feel the exact same way about you," Kurt says in reply, both of them laughing a little. "Are you okay?"

"We can play catchup later," Blaine says, glancing back over his shoulder to see- is Caesar wiping a tear?- before wrapping his right arm around Kurt's waist tightly and walking them over to his seat in front of Caesar. One of the assistants of the show brings out another chair for Kurt, but both of them ignore it, Kurt instead opting to sit on Blaine's lap. As Kurt shimmies back in Blaine's lap, Blaine presses a quick kiss to the back of Kurt's neck and whispers '_I love you'_ against his skin.

"Well, I can definitely say that was one of the most romantic things I have _ever _seen," Caesar says, using a hankerchief to wipe under his eyes. "The way you ran into each other's arms, _oh, _someone hold me." Caesar puts a hand on his forehead and throws his head back dramatically. Up on the main screen, they play back the reunion, and Blaine watches again, unable to hold back a smile as he tightens his hold on Kurt's waist. This time, Blaine can see the audience's reaction, and he is positive that nearly half of them are crying. "Kurt, let me talk to you first."

Kurt nods, and wipes away one last tear from his face before smiling brightly at Caesar.

"Tell me, how did you feel when Blaine volunteered to go in your place?" Caesar asks. Kurt laughs.

"Like slapping him, at first, for being so ridiculously stupid." The whole audience laughs. "But then, I couldn't feel anything else, and the only thing I wanted in the whole world was for him to come back alive, for me." Caesar smiles at the couple, and the entire audience joins together in an '_awww,'_ led by Caesar himself.

"You two are the most adorable couple." Caesar turns to the audience. "Aren't they adorable?" The audience erupts into a loud cheer, and both Kurt and Blaine laugh slightly, their mouths stretched into huge grins, although Blaine is pretty sure it's not because of the audience and more because of the boy who is sitting in his lap this exact minute.

The interview goes on not for much longer and before the two know it, they are being ushered offstage and back over to the Tributes' building, which is now eerily empty with the exception of Floor 8. When they step out of the elevator, David is there, along with Emma and Bieste, and they are all smiling incredibly wide. David steps forward first, offering his hand to Kurt. "David Martinez," David introduces himself, "it's a pleasure to finally get to meet you."

Kurt is all smiles as he replies, stepping forward slightly from where Blaine's arm is snug around him, only to be pulled back by Blaine, who gives him a sheepish grin. "Kurt Hummel, and it's an honour to meet you, as well. You're going to have to tell me what you did to Blaine's eyes, they are absolutely stunning-not that they're usually not," Kurt is quick to reassure, looking up at Blaine's face with a slight blush in his cheeks. Blaine just wants to kiss the blush away.

"Of course," David answers, "it's actually very simple and it's a quick process-"

Blaine zones out, well, if he's honest with himself, roughly the second David starts talking, and instead focuses on Kurt, the sparkle in his eyes, the glow he seems to be shining with, his perfect pink lips, the way Kurt's eyebrows raise when he gets really excited about whatever it is David is saying to him, his long eyelashes casting shadows against his cheeks, and before he knows it, both Kurt and David are looking at him expectantly.

"Sorry, what?" Blaine asks, blushing. Kurt smiles and kisses him on the cheek.

"David was just saying that we must be tired, we've had a long day, we should probably head to bed, hmm?" Kurt repeats, still smiling. David winks at them before walking away, Emma and Bieste having already gone to their rooms and leaving the two completely alone.

Blaine takes a second to process what Kurt has said, until his eyes widen in realization. Kurt laughs and kisses Blaine softly on the lips. "Wait," Blaine says against Kurt's mouth, his lips unwilling to move away from this pleasure he thought he'd never get to enjoy again, "you get to sleep here?"

Kurt nods.

"With me?"

Kurt nods again. Blaine smiles widely and pulls Kurt in for a passionate kiss, his hands pressing into Kurt's back and pulling him closer. Kurt rests his elbows on Blaine's shoulders, his fingers tangling into Blaine's hair, the soft curls loose thanks to David. Their mouths move hotly against each other, no audience or Caesar Flickerman or stylists to worry about anymore. It's just the two of them, their hands roaming and stroking and pressing and it's the best kiss Blaine can ever remember having. That is, until Blaine's mind manages to break through the haze the kiss has him with and reminds him that, oh yeah, his arm looks like the product of a science laboratory and hurts like _hell _wrapped around Kurt's back like this. Blaine pulls back suddenly, gasping as the pain comes back to him like a shock. Kurt looks up at Blaine, who is suddenly a foot away from him.

"What happened?" Kurt asks immediately, "did I do something wrong?" Blaine looks up from where his arm is curled against his chest to see Kurt, hurt written plainly across his face.

"No, no, you could never do anything wrong, it's just- I kinda forgot about my arm, but it's not a big deal, I'll be fine-" Blaine's words trail off as he moves forward again, arm now hanging limply at his side as he tries to kiss Kurt again, upset that his body had to ruin the mood. Kurt steps back, smiling softly at Blaine.

"Blaine-" the way his name falls from Kurt's lips makes Blaine's brain melt "-we have all night to do anything we'd like," Kurt winks at Blaine, and Blaine's eyebrows fly up, "but I haven't been able to talk to my boyfriend in weeks, and that's all I want, just for a little bit. And I want to look at your arm, I still haven't had the chance to even look at it yet, and an arm is something you kind of need." Kurt holds his hands out expectantly, and Blaine sighs, gesturing his head toward the couch in the middle of the room. Damn Kurt for thinking logically.

"But Kurt," Blaine complains, "We have the rest of our lives to talk! Not to mention, how often do we end up completely alone for a whole night? Haven't I earned some sort of celebratory... congratulations?" Kurt laughs, pulling Blaine to the couch by his right arm and sitting down right next to him.

"Blaine, relax, I did say we have the rest of the night for other things, don't think I've forgotten. I have plans."

"Plans, hmm?" Blaine asks, smiling coyly and causing Kurt to slap him on the chest. "Okay, okay, let's talk, I've missed you, too, there's probably a lot of things we need to talk about."

"Actually, there's only one thing. But first, let me look at your arm." Blaine obediently raises his arm for Kurt's inspection, wincing slightly at the movement. Kurt hold it in his hand tenderly, using his index finger on his other hand to gently caress the silver lines marring Blaine's skin. "Still so perfect," Kurt whispers softly, his finger oddly soothing in a way. Blaine tilts his head back and closes his eyes, Kurt's finger still going up and down his arm. "Does it hurt- well, obviously it hurts, but I mean, is the pain manageable? Is it always going to hurt? What did the doctor say?"

Blaine smiles at the influx of questions. "Yes, it hurts, but it's slowly getting better, I can hold it up on my own without crying like a baby, no, the pain will only last a few more days, and Bieste told me that I should heal completely, but the lines are going to stay there forever."

Blaine feels Kurt's breath on his arm but doesn't open his eyes to look. Slowly, Kurt presses his mouth to Blaine's arm, his lips soft, barely grazing against Blaine's skin. His tongue pokes out and traces along the silver lines, and Blaine has to fight back a shiver at the intimacy of it. Kurt's mouth moves up and down his arm, softly following the silver with his lips and tongue and his mouth is too warm against Blaine's still sore arm but in a good way, and Blaine looks down to find Kurt's eyes on him.

"I love you," Blaine says in a barely-there whisper, and Kurt moves his mouth from Blaine's arm to press his lips sweetly against Blaine's own.

"I love you, too," he whispers, before pulling back and smiling almost nervously at Blaine. Blaine studies Kurt's face for a minute, curious.

"Is everything alright?" he asks, cupping Kurt's cheek with his right hand. Kurt blinks and laughs, leaning into Blaine's touch.

"Yes, of course, I'm just a bit... nervous."

Blaine smiles softly at Kurt before pressing their lips together again and pulling back. He does it one more time, just because the feel of Kurt's lips against his own is something he thought he'd never get to have again and the taste of Kurt is so perfect and he missed it so, so much. "You have no reason to be nervous around me. You could never say anything wrong."

Kurt takes a deep breath, smiling nervously again at Blaine before seeming to decide something in his head and nodding to himself. Curious, Blaine watches him, waiting. Kurt catches Blaine's eyes and he stares at Blaine, his eyes full of conviction and love.

"You were right, earlier, about having the rest of our lives to talk. I don't want to taint this near perfect night with more pain and sorrow than it already has been tainted with. So, I'm just going to cut to the chase." Kurt takes Blaine's hands in his own, and shuffles closer to Blaine on the couch.

"Blaine, I love you-"

"I love you, too," Blaine interrupts smoothly, smiling when Kurt rolls his eyes at the interruption.

"I know that, which is why I'm about to do what I'm about to do. I know that we're young, and we have all the time in the world to spend together, but having my name picked from that jar, and having you volunteer for me, it- it really secured some things in my head, and I told myself that _when _you came back, there was something that I needed to do." Kurt's hands are shaking slightly in Blaine's, and Blaine grips them as tightly and reassuringly as he can.

"I love you so much, Blaine, that sometimes it _hurts. _When you were gone, these past few weeks, I was hurting so much. Seeing you struggle, seeing you in pain and suffering and alone hurt me so much, too, and all I wanted to do was keep you safe, keep you wrapped up in my arms and protected from anything in the world that could hurt you." Kurt pulls one of his hands from Blaine's quickly to wipe a few stray tears that fell as he spoke. Instead of returning it to Blaine's hand, however, he reached into his pocket, grabbing something and sliding off the couch to kneel in front of Blaine.

Blaine feels his heart drop to his feet the second Kurt moves to the ground, his eyes so full of hope and love that it makes Blaine's breath catch in his throat, makes his hand tighten around Kurt's and his mind to stop working, to stop thinking anything that isn't _Kurt, Kurt, Kurt. _

"I want to love you forever. I want you to let me love you forever. I want you to hold my hand as we walk through the streets, and help me make something for us to eat, and kiss me on the nose in the morning when I'm too lazy to get out of bed and you don't know what else to do. I want to wake up next to you in the morning, and go to bed with you at night, and just spend the rest of our lives together, loving each other. So please, Blaine-" Kurt holds out his hand to show a small silver band, no fancy jewels or patterns decorating it- "let me love you for the rest of my life. I know it isn't much, but it's all I could afford and I-"

"I love it," Blaine interrupts, tears streaming down his own face as he watches Kurt pour his heart out to him, genuinely worried of Blaine's answer. Blaine lets go of Kurt's other hand and reaches out to grab the ring himself, but Kurt recoils, laughing slightly.

"You haven't even let me ask the question yet," he scolds, his voice thick.

"You're crazy for thinking you even have to," Blaine responds. Kurt's eyes widen slightly and suddenly he's laughing, putting his hand in front of him and taking Blaine's left hand gently in his own. Blaine looks down at Kurt, quirking an eyebrow. "But that doesn't mean I don't want you to."

Kurt laughs again, holding the ring in front of Blaine as he whispers, "Blaine Anderson, would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?"

"Of course I will," Blaine says, letting Kurt put the ring on his finger with shaky fingers- it fits nearly perfectly, the silver feeling heavier on his finger, and it feels to Blaine as though it belongs. Kurt barely finishes pushing the ring on when Blaine uses his right hand to lift Kurt's chin high enough for Kurt to kiss him, pouring all his love and passion into the kiss as he can. Their lips are hot and wet as they push against each other, Kurt now at eye-level with Blaine and Blaine tangling his fingers into the hair at the nape of Kurt's neck. Kurt quickly moves onto Blaine's lap, his knees on either side of Blaine's thighs and his chest pressed right up against Blaine's. Neither of them know how, but soon enough there are tears mingling in with the taste of each other, and they pull back with labouring breaths to smile. Kurt wipes the tears from his face and looks at Blaine knowingly, who is panting and smiling widely, clearly unsure of what Kurt is waiting for.

"The bedroom, Blaine?" Kurt supplies and something seems to snap in Blaine's mind as his eyes widen before he nods quickly, Kurt hurriedly jumping off of him and taking Blaine's hand as Blaine leads them to his room. The second the door closes behind them, Blaine's mouth is back on Kurt's, moving them back towards the bed. They strip each other slowly, carefully, with soft touches and desperate fingers, moving with the absolute love and passion only two lovers could possess. They fall onto the bed, naked bodies moving together and soft moans reverberating throughout the room. Their hands are everywhere, caressing skin, stroking hair, gripping tight as possible as they move quicker. Blaine's fingers press against Kurt and they both moan softly, their 'I love you's breathed against too hot skin and when Blaine pushes inside Kurt, he realizes that there are tears on Kurt's cheeks and he thinks that he's hurting Kurt until he realizes that his own face is wet as well, they're both crying and Blaine leans down to kiss Kurt and whisper, "I love you so much." It's beautiful and perfect and they make love like they never have before.

Once they finish, they clean each other up before cuddling together in Blaine's bed and before long, they're at it again, this time rougher and more desperate and louder, Blaine's mouth on Kurt and Kurt tastes just as he remembers, bringing him nearly to the edge with his tongue and slick mouth before pulling back to open himself up and this time it's fucking, Blaine bouncing up and down on Kurt as Kurt grips his hips hard enough to bruise and thrusts, both of them coming with a shout shortly after. They cuddle up again after deciding to take a shower, both of them giggling teenagers as they clean each other off and massage soap into each other's skin. When they reach Blaine's bed, Kurt immediately curls up in Blaine's arms, his head pillowed on Blaine's shoulder. It makes Blaine's right arm slightly numb and his left arm sore but he doesn't care, he holds Kurt as tight as he dares and kisses everywhere he can reach, the two of them whispering long into the night before they can't keep their eyes open anymore and they fall into a deep sleep.

Blaine wakes up several times during the night, screaming and sweating, and it takes Kurt's gentle voice and soft, reassuring touches to bring him back into sleep, his arms pulling Blaine as close to him as he can. It absolutely terrifies Kurt, every time Blaine sits up straight with tears in his eyes and sweat matting his hair to his forehead, Kurt doesn't know if he's doing the right thing, he's so unsure of how he is supposed to proceed with all of this. Usually, Blaine is the strong one, the one holding Kurt together when he fell to pieces, and the sudden role-reversal is more difficult than Kurt expects. He knows Blaine is having nightmares- how could he not, he'd been to hell and back within the span of a few weeks. They'll have to talk about it, to try and put the pieces of Blaine back together, the pieces that had been torn out and trampled on, but for now Kurt does what he knows best, and that is just hold Blaine, hold him together as best as he can, be the rock that Blaine needs.

He barely gets any sleep that night, but he's fine with it, because it's not him that he is worried about. Instead he holds Blaine and thinks, still so blown away by the fact that he is actually alive, heart beating strong in his chest, pressed tight up against Kurt's. His warm breath is beating off Kurt's face, his body solid and slightly more thinned out than it was before, but a bit more muscled. He had expected for Blaine to have serious scars and bruises marring his perfect skin, but the doctors in the Capitol clearly know how to work some magic, and the only physical reminder that Blaine had participated in the Games manifests itself in the form of the silver veins snaking their way around his entire left arm. Kurt delicately traces his fingers down the marks on Blaine's arm, all the way down to his hand, where the brightest ones all lead to the simple silver band resting on Blaine's third finger. Kurt smiles softly when he remembers that _Blaine said yes_, turning the ring around Blaine's finger and stroking Blaine's hair with his other hand when Blaine mumbles in his sleep against Kurt's chest.

Kurt falls into a light sleep shortly after that, only to be waken barely two hours later by the sunlight streaming in through the window and the press of Blaine's lips against his nose. He blinks his eyes open, wincing at the brightness of the light but smiling when Blaine's face comes into focus, all smiles and warm, glowing eyes. He's not quite the Blaine that Kurt used to know, Kurt thinks as he leans up to press a soft kiss to Blaine's lips, which slowly grows in intensity, but, they have the rest of their lives for him to get there.

* * *

><p>AN: Just the epilogue to go! And again, feel free to kill me because it's like 2 months late lol


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